Unofficial Files
by speechbubble
Summary: A collection of one-shots and/or drabbles evolving around Alex Rider and Ben Daniels. SLASH. Don't like, don't read. Now with title image, thanks to littleshush!
1. Six Years

**Disclaimer:** Alex Rider belongs to Anthony Horowitz. The story ideas are mine, though.

**A/N: Some general remarks:**

The setting obviously is some time after Snakehead, and I like to think of Alex as being at least sixteen in these stories.

I sincerely hope that I'm not accidentally copying someone's ideas, and if I am, please inform me about it.

Should any of my stories inspire you to elaborate on them or draw a scene or something, please PM me – I don't mind the idea at all, as long as I'm given some credit. And I like being involved in the writing process.

Ideas and wishes are welcome, but I'm afraid I can't promise anything. It's all a matter of motivation and inspiration in the end.

Corrections in terms of content, grammar, spelling and punctuation are very welcome, too. English is not my mother-tongue after all.

And at last: Enjoy!

**Six Years**

Alex startled out of his reverie when he caught himself staring _again_ at Ben who was currently peeling potatoes across the kitchen island. Looking down to his own task – slicing carrots – he bit his lip in frustration.

"_Seven years," _he remembered telling Sabina when she had remarked that Lefevre was 'only a bit older' than her at Wimbledon. And yet he now found himself undeniably attracted to a man six years his senior. _Oh the irony_, he thought sarcastically and made a note not to mention his... _crushfeelingswhatever _to her. Ever. _"That's nothing these days," _his friend had answered back then and he mentally admitted his hopeful agreement, albeit grudgingly.

He just could not quite bring himself to truly care about the age gap between them when they understood each other without words most of the time. Several missions and conversations had proven their teamwork and their equality in the last months – they just _clicked _somehow.

His innate curiosity would drive him to act upon his feelings sooner or later, he knew that, and then it would not matter in the least if any reasonable part of him told him not to. His reason had never won against curiosity before, why start now, when something good might actually come out of it?

Subtly he glanced up at Ben, noticing a faint pink had spread over the man's high cheekbones. _No use trying to spy on _this_ agent and staying undetected_.

Alex smirked, letting his eyes roam over the man in front of him appreciatively. Screw the six years age gap. Screw reason.


	2. Sparks

**Disclaimer: **Alex Rider is not mine.

**A/N:** Fluff. Cliché. My apologies.

**Sparks**

Ben did not know how it had happened, but suddenly Alex was right in front of him and holding his face in a firm grip, keeping him close – closer than comfortable, especially with those complicated things he had been feeling lately tickling at the back of his mind.

"Ben, chill," the sixteen-year-old soothed, sounding bizarrely like his instructor before his first parachute jump. The resemblance made him tense up even further. Thumbs brushed along his cheeks, Alex was still trying to calm him down, in vain. Yet, he could not bring himself to look away from the brown eyes that were locked to his, drawing, pulling, hauling him closer. There was no misinterpreting the intent or denying the determination in the intense gaze.

"Alex...?" Ben croaked, half in warning, half in acceptance. He was unable to protest, unable to break away – not because he was too weak physically, but rather because he knew he wanted this, wanted this deep down, despite all the complications that came with it.

"You're sixteen, Alex," he reminded, hoping the younger man would come to his senses for his own were overwhelmed and fogged with the sheer presence of the other.

"And you're twenty-two," Alex answered, smirking smartly before he titled his head, "Now since that is settled..." and met his lips.

The world did not stop turning, it merely might have stumbled for a second. Alex was too gentle, like he was kissing a girl, and Ben himself was not quite actually really exactly responding very much, but in the momentary chaos that was his mind he felt a certain kind of spark that had existed between the two of them for a while now. It had been waiting, impatiently, refusing to be extinguished, desiring to light a steady fire.

When they separated, it seemed like all of Alex' former confidence had seeped through his lips into Ben, leaving the teenager blushing and the adult holding on tight. The firm order had been replaced with a begging _life's too short, so please _in brown eyes that were to old for their age. Everything that spoke against pursuing any deeper relationship with Alex flashed though Ben's head - age gap – occupation - gender – and faded immediately behind the colours of the moment.

They stared at each other in silence for agonisingly slow seconds, minutes maybe, until Ben allowed himself to borrow Alex' brazen smile.

"Let me show you how it is done properly, _Cub_."

They would kindle that fire when time and ability came to them. For now though, Ben decided, he would do his best to enjoy the pinprick sensation of the sparks.


	3. Hope

**Disclaimer: **Nothing but the idea is mine and I obviously make no money with this.

**A/N: SamayouTamashi has extended this drabble – as well as the next - in her two-shot "Unofficially". I feel very flattered and I am amazed at how awesome a job she did – go check it out, and don't forget to review!**

**Hope**

Cold. Nothing but the icy water seeping through his clothes, the immobilising sensation filtering through his skin right into his bones. The chill along with the infinite silence grabbed and gripped his heart like a heavy taunt. _Bad luck, Rider_. His breath came short and laboured, his pants and gasps the only life that echoed across the frozen over lake in irregular intervals like something forbidden and to be punished by a slow death.

Then – noise. Rotors. A helicopter approaching, the sheer force of the machine drilling a new rhythm into his leaden body. The wind curled up the lose snow and blasted it into his numb face, pinpricks going unnoticed on reddened cheeks and blue lips. When the helicopter touched the ground and the rotors came to a reluctant halt – soft steps on unimaginable white that he could not see, hurried, messy, sounding like salvation in the dead environment.

Finally – warmth. The eternal ethereal warmth Alex had grown accustomed to associate with safety, comfort, friendship, brotherhood and love of life. Frantic panicked words, and he curled into the warmth as he was lifted and carried into the helicopter, fingers like icicles clenched and frozen in the blanket wrapped around him and the other's shirt. Everything else was drowned in that warmth he had not expected to feel ever again. Mrs Jones' startled exclamations, the doctors' futile attempts to extract him from the tight embrace – he was not the only one refusing to let go, he realized with fuzzy, muffled contentment – the nurses giggling and cooing at the picture they made. It meant nothing to him compared to -

Finally – Ben.


	4. Certainty

**Disclaimer: **Still not mine.

**A/N: **Ben's side of 'Hope', as a request by SwedenBabe. I hope this is to your taste! **Also, a reminder to go and read the extended versions of Hope & Certainty by SamayouTamashi.**

**Certainty**

White. Perfect stillness below them, colourless, blinding. The panic of his beating, thundering heart turned any noise into a dull, soundless throbbing, even itself. His eyes focussed on a single green dot blinking in and out of existence on the black screen of the radar. Worry and regret tasted bitter on his tongue-like-sandpaper as the little point flashed, reminding him of what was slipping through his fingers with every passing second like a tiny insignificant snowflake on the immeasurable canvas of ice beneath the helicopter.

Then – snow. The faint scent that seemed to have lingered in the crisp air for too long to remember what sunshine was. It made his throat constrict painfully and his vision blur traitorously. The unmoving body on the ground blending into the irrevocable sight of death _nopleaseno _and suddenly he had jumped out of the helicopter, stumbling forward in a rush, trying to drink in the reality of reddened cheeks and blue lips and _ohthankgod_ small clouds of crystallized breath escaping from that mouth.

Finally – proof. Ben noticed his own lips moving, forming words that tasted vaguely of reassurance and relief and yet made no sound at all to his own ears. He gathered the other in his arms, wrapping him up in desperate yearning and a grey blanket, watching fingers claw into anything they could grasp like frostbite. Ben's gaze remained fixed on the life he was holding in his hands, not letting him register anything else. He did not see Mrs Jones regarding them with surprise and concern smelling of deadly peppermint, did not care about the prying hands trying to steal his _proof – _not a chance he would let them -, did not perceive the disinfectant interwoven with the hospital air and the sweet perfume of beautiful nurses. It all faded into a mute black-and-white film in comparison to -

Finally – Alex.


	5. Close

**Disclaimer:** I wish.

**A/N: **Be warned of an inconsistent style, and lime – nothing too bad, but I'm rather safe than sorry.

**Close**

Feverish kisses, silky sheets, frantic hands, _heat_.

"Stop," Ben panted, voice husky with suppressed desire. Alex halted in the action of fumbling his trousers open. Shining brown eyes glanced up at him, mesmerizing, alluring, seducing. "Come on, Ben," Alex murmured against his exposed collarbone. "Who knows if I'll ev-"

"Don't," Ben interrupted hoarsely.

"-er...'Don't', what?" Alex asked innocently, trailing his index down Ben's bare chest in a gesture that was anything _but_ innocent.

"Don't play the 'I'm going to die a virgin'-card."

"Why?" Alex grinned cheekily, batting his eyelashes in playful exaggeration. "Would it work?"

"You have no shame, you know that?" Ben muttered. Then he swallowed around the lust that had caught in his throat and let out a weak but determined "no, it wouldn't".

Alex' grin turned into a smirk, the slightest hint of frustration underlying his too-mature features. He pushed Ben onto his back on the bed, wriggling slightly to find a comfortable position straddling his hips in a way that made him _feel_ in all the wrong – right – wrong places.

"Then how about the 'I'm old enough to make my own decisions'-card?" Alex offered, hot breath and hotter tongue dancing along the shell of Ben's ear.

"You're sixteen," a gasp, restraint slipping for a second.

"Which makes it _le-gal_," Alex whispered and Ben was sure the way he moved and looked and _touched_ was not _le-gal_ at all.

"Just so, yeah," he conceded, gently trying to pry the blond off him.

"Dammit, Ben. You're probably the only guy on earth who needs to be bloody begged for sex!" Alex climbed off him and sat on the edge of the bed, arms crossed in front of his chest in a defiant gesture that made him actually look his age.

"Well, sorry for having a conscience," Ben snapped, his head cooling off now that the mood was completely ruined.

"I thought we were through with that. If I had a girlfriend or a boyfriend my age, I would have screwed them senseless months ago!"

Ben did not answer. Instead he stared straight ahead, a little taken aback. Alex sighed and the stiffness to his shoulders seemed to vanish. He shook his head resignedly and rested a hand on Ben's thigh in silent reassurance and apology. They both knew that Alex could never have managed to keep a conventional relationship at least halfway intact, even if he had wanted to – which he did not. Ever.

"It's just my hormones, probably," he shrugged, the joke breaking between his lips like so much glass, doing nothing to lift the tension. "If I'm not to young to die, though, why should I be too young to sleep with you?"

"I wish you were too young to die," the words were a shattered breath, desperation trickled through the pieces.

"Ben..." Alex hugged him with an uncharacteristic smile that was wry and small and strangely affectionate.

"Sorry, I know you don't like others worrying about you," Ben replied, pulling him deeper into the embrace. Alex nuzzled his neck. "I'd be a hypocrite if I told _you_ not to worry about me."

He skipped around admitting his fear of losing Ben,_ that's why I want to be as close to you as possible_ went unspoken – because maybe, probably, they were already closer than other couples who had gone all the way.

Slow kisses, velvety sheets, strong hands, _warmth_.


	6. Veilchen

**Disclaimer:** Alex Rider is not mine.

**A/N: F**inally something more funny. At least I hope so. The title means 'Violets', the other translations are in the A/N at the end of the story. (Wouldn't want to spoil the punchline.) Enjoy!

**Veilchen**

It was February 14th and Ben had just returned from a mission the kind of which he preferred not to think about, nor to repeat ever again. Alex would not let him hear the end of it if he ever found out about that-which-shall-not-be-talked-about. Not to mention K-Unit. Yes, Ben would definitely keep this very much _classified_.

MI6, it seemed, not so much.

Alex was sitting on Ben's bed, cross-legged and smirking, while Ben read the Valentine's card that he had positioned on the kitchen table. He watched Ben's expression turn from embarrassed to raging mad from a safe distance. "You are pretty when you blush, you know?" he commented.

_Rosen sind rot, Veilchen sind blau, doch du bist die schönste, die schönste Frau! _The carefully chosen - and heavily perfumed - and worst of all _pink_ - card said. Alex had actually not been sure if Ben spoke German, but it was easy to judge from his reaction that he did indeed understand the language.

"Ich geb' dir gleich Veilchen!" Ben growled, still blushing furiously, and pounced on the bed. Fists went flying easily, not aimed to seriously hurt, but to teach a little lesson. Alex' laughter did not truly help in calming his temper, yet Ben did enjoy the somewhat childish and relaxing moment between them. Wrestling soon became tickling until Alex finally gasped "Mercy!" between two fits of hysterical giggling, tears pricking at his eyes.

Ben complied and lay back on the sheets, panting and smiling a silly little smile. "Only you," he sighed. "How did you know I was back?"

"Mrs Jones told me."

"Really?"

"Nah, I had an appointment at the bank and took the opportunity to peek into your file."

"That explains how you knew about the nature of the mission, too."

"Yep. They even added a picture of you in disguise. I bet they are going to blackmail you with that."

Ben groaned in agreement.

"How did it go anyway?" Alex enquired, moving closer and entangling their legs. He rested his head on Ben's shoulder.

"I managed to screw those drug dealers over. But I swear, I'm never going into one of _those_ clubs again. It really isn't my thing."

"Pity. You looked so sexy in those tights... Ouch!" Ben hit him on the back of the head. Then he grabbed a handful of fair hair and guided Alex' lips to his. The kiss was deep and spoke volumes of _I'm glad you're back_ and _So good to be home. _Ben let the feeling wash over him, lulling him into a relaxed state of mind after the challenge of the last weeks.Alex snaked his hand under Ben's shirt, caressing the bare skin underneath. Strong arms encircled him and pulled him closer, closer to the warmth he had missed while the other had been away, dressed in drag and flirting with drug-dealing transvestites. Which reminded him...

"Schatz, du musst unbedingt mal deinen Damenbart rasieren!"

**A/N: **The poem on the card means '_Roses are red, violets are blue, but you are the most beautiful, the most beautiful woman._' - only it rhymes in German.

Ben tells Alex 'I'll show you violets!' - Veilchen is German for 'violets' as well as for 'shiner'.

And finally, Alex tells Ben 'Darling, you really need to shave your facial hair!' - 'Damenbart' literally means 'ladies' beard', but I don't think that would be a valid translation. If there is an actual English word for it, please tell me!


	7. White Day

**Disclaimer: **I don't claim Alex Rider as mine.

**A/N: **This is more or less a sequel to 'Veilchen', so beware of cheap humour and cross-dressing! ;)

**White Day**

Alex fought down a persistent blush that clashed horribly with the lip gloss he was wearing while he rummaged through the hot pink suitcase he had been given at his mission briefing. He angrily wondered what he had done to deserve being embarrassed like this, then decided it must have been some sort of karmic repayment for his little practical joke a month prior. At least he had managed to keep it secret from Ben and convinced MI6 to put the mission file in an extra-classified folder, just to be sure. For all he cared Ben could happily believe he was investigating mysterious disappearances in the red-light district in Paris dressed up as a client rather than a prostitute.

A prickling sensation in his neck made him look around his room for the umpteenth time during the last hour. He just could not shake the feeling of being watched despite having blocked the door, shuttered the windows and searched his room twice for any concealed cameras or bugs. Hell, he had even checked under the bed and in the closet like some child who was afraid of monsters hiding there.

Desperately trying to get his mind set on mission-mode he focussed on the task at hand, pulling out net tights, lacy knickers (_No thong, hallelujah!_) a fitting bra and other articles of clothing he had never planned on wearing as long as he was even semi-conscious. Having managed to put on the constricting underwear, he squeezed into a tight black miniskirt that brought out curves he had not known he possessed – he later discovered the skirt actually had _fillings_ which explained a lot.

Reluctantly trying on tops and see-through blouses, hot-pants and ruffle minis, he finally managed to brush off the feeling of being observed as paranoia caused by the strange outfits that made him feel exposed and anything but decent. After a while he even dared to strike poses while looking at himself in his mirror. He practised pouting, flirting and batting his lashes in the most feminine fashion he could muster. Playing a prostitute he could cope with, but he still wondered why it had to be a female one.

When he was finally through with all the outfits, he packed them back into the suitcase, got rid of his make-up almost ceremoniously and then flopped down onto his bed gracelessly, glad to be a boy and to be allowed to dress like one for the rest of the day. The sound of crumpling paper alerted him to a letter lying on his pillow, written in Ben's neither messy nor orderly script.

Alex read.

Then blushed.

Then scrunched it up and flung the note across his room.

"_Dear Alex,_

_Roses are red,_

_Violets are blue,_

_The shorter the skirt,_

_The better the view!_

_Love and kisses, Ben"_


	8. Hot

**Disclaimer: **Alex Rider is not mine.

**A/N: **This is the first part of two to four coming-out themed stories, like 'Delta Alfa Tango Echo' and 'The Good Ones'.

**A huge thanks goes to littleshush for dedicating her story 'Life through a spyglass' to me!** Go read and review it! ;)

**Hot**

It was a nice Saturday morning in London – one of the few days in October that refused to make people wade in thick fog that crept around ankles and clawed at sleeves. The air was crisp and clear and a cold sun painted the whole city in a golden light. It was on that particular day that Ben Daniels, _bank employee_, was ordered by the head of the Royal and General to pay a personal visit to a certain client of theirs to clear up some obscure aspects which were causing difficulties with his account.

Thus Ben Daniels had dressed formally, in a black suit with a blue-grey tie and a white button down shirt with a starched collar. All to appear competent and trustworthy in front of his client. Then he had driven to Chelsea, down a road not quite unfamiliar, and rung the bell next to a door that was not quite unfamiliar to him either. A red-haired woman he guessed to be in her late twenties though she seemed a little younger opened and greeted him with a friendly grin that turned sceptical when she took in his outfit and the briefcase with the R&G logo on it. Ben recognised her as Jack Starbright, Alex' guardian, housekeeper and sister at heart.

"Good morning," she greeted him simply, voice carefully neutral to hide the aggravation that shone dimly in her eyes despite her efforts.

"Good morning, Miss Starbright, my name is Ben Daniels and I'm here due to some minor problems with the account of your charge, Alexander Rider," he introduced himself in the polite but monotonous manner of officials. "Would you mind if I had a word with him?"

She sighed, resigning herself to not being able to send him away successfully and without consequence.

"It's all right. Please come in, I'll fetch him for you. Take a seat in the living room while you're waiting, okay?" She let him in and showed him into the living room where he sat on the couch. Then she continued through the kitchen and stood next to the table, leaning down to Alex who was having a late breakfast.

"There's someone from the bank," she informed him quietly. "I swear, if it's another mission, I'll..." The unfinished threat stood in the air, mocking her powerlessness to change the situation. Alex glanced around the door frame into the living room, observing Ben with his back towards the kitchen, his officially squared shoulders and the ever present awareness of his surroundings written subtly onto his features. He noticed Ben smirking slightly, signalling that he knew he was being watched, but staring ahead at a picture on the opposite wall. He exuded a fine nuance of calmness, hard to pick up but undeniably there, so Alex deduced that whatever he had come for could not be too bad.

"Really, the nerve of those guys. Showing up here! Isn't it enough to call – or are they afraid you won't come to see them if they don't send someone to _accompany_ you?"

Alex ignored Jack's rant, finding her worry for him endearing but deciding that it was unnecessary to listen to the same complaints over and over again. Instead he quickly finished his breakfast and stood up to put the dishes in the sink. He wondered why they had sent Ben of all people – not that he was not pleased by their choice, he preferred Ben to the other anonymous agents he had met at the bank and that either scorned of feared him; he was just a little suspicious as to how far MI6' knowledge went concerning his relationship with the other.

Jack had ceased her tirade and threw a contemplating look into the living room while starting to wash the dishes. "But damn," she muttered, falling into a completely different mood. "He's hot."

Alex grinned like the cat that got the cream – or rather the cub that got the fox – and nodded. "Totally." Not waiting for a reaction from Jack, he strode confidently towards Ben. "...yeah..." He caught her sighing behind him.

Only when he leaned down to greet his partner with a light kiss upon the cheek, did he hear Jack drop some piece of cutlery she had been drying, startled.

"Wait, what?" She spluttered. "Alex?"


	9. Stranded

**A/N:** Inspired by Tatalina who suggested a mission-related one-shot. It did probably not turn out quite as expected.

Beware of lime.

**Disclaimer:** I disclaim Alex Rider.

**Stranded**

They jumped off the deck together, escaping the smothering flames that licked at the ship, luring it down into the deathly embrace of the sea. The shore was at least three miles away and they had to bring a considerable distance between themselves and the wreck before it started sinking and possibly dragged them along into dark depths. Pushing their bodies to the limit, they swam.

The white hot sun burned down onto him without mercy. The light penetrated even through his clenched shut eyelids, reaching his eyes in a blinding red colour. His ears were still ringing from the sound of bullets ricochetting off iron walls in the belly of a ship, leaders shouting orders frantically, steps of steel-capped boots echoing over the chaos. He was sore and exhausted from fighting and swimming, but he had been lucky on the part of injuries. He felt a few scratches on his right cheek stinging due to the salt water and his beige shorts had been ripped and turned pink where a shot had grazed his left thigh.

Ben waited for his breathing to even out with his eyes still shut. Then he groaned and sat up, leaning on his elbows in the bright, warm sand. Straining his eyes he could make out the silhouette of the ship, burning and sinking on the horizon. While he was relatively sure that they had left no one of the crew alive, it was only when he saw the smoke that was billowing up from the wreck that a surge of relief and accomplishment hit him. He turned to his left, regarding Alex who was seated cross-legged on the beach, fumbling with a transmitter, attempting to send a distress call to MI6 to pick them up.

"Good morning, Sleepyhead," he greeted absent-mindedly without looking up from his task of connecting wires and pushing buttons on a device that had seen better days.

Ben surveyed their surroundings, taking in the palm trees, the wide beach and the clear, turquoise sea... the island they were more or less stranded on could have been cut out from a holiday magazine for the rich and famous. Private beach deluxe. An idea that made his lips curl in a mischievous smirk popped into his head.

"Hey," he said, catching Alex' attention.

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay? Hurt anywhere?" Ben inquired while assessing his partner's appearance. The only injuries he could clearly see were a split lip and a purple bruise on his right forearm.

"Nope, I'm fine. Some scratches, some bruises, the usual. Nothing life-threatening."

"In that case, how are your survival skills?"

Alex snorted derisively. "Have you seen my immaculate record?"

Ben rolled his eyes at the display of sarcastic pomposity, but did not press the matter any further. "So you're fairly good, right?"

"Make an educated guess," Alex chaffed slyly and continued when he did not receive a reply. "Why are you even asking?"

"Because this can wait a few more days," Ben explained, leaning over and taking the transmitter from Alex' loose grip. He put the device in an empty pocket of his utility belt and zipped it shut resolutely despite Alex's sceptical exclamation of "What are you doing?"

"I'm booking a holiday on a tropical island for the two of us," Ben responded simply as if what MI6 considered slacking off was the most natural thing in the world for him.

"How irresponsible of you, agent Daniels!" Alex gasped in playful consternation, eyes twinkling with his true opinion on the idea. He gave in to the incessant gravity between them, slowly snaking an arm around Ben's waist, keeping him close while he lowered himself onto the sand.

"Does that mean I get sex on the beach?"

"You're too young to be drinking," Ben chastised him teasingly, running a hand down Alex' chest, enjoying the feeling of a heartbeat accelerating in anticipation.

"Whoever said I was talking about alcohol?"

Ben let a hand wander to the back of his neck, pulling his lips against his own, giving him a taste of what to look forward to. "Well, in that case..." he murmured before kissing him softly, soundly, skilfully.

Alex hummed appreciatively when a hand slipped under his shirt, caressing, teasing, and grabbed Ben's backside, pushing his hips towards the other's in a demanding manner. His lips found the other's neck, brushing and nibbling and biting, relishing in the throaty groans his action elicited. Shirts came off, fingers fumbled with buckles and buttons. Ben trailed his tongue along Alex' navel before slowly moving lower...

All the tension of the mission faded into soft waves and careless moans, bright sunshine and bare skin, glittering water and flickering vision speckled with colourful spots until the sheer sensation became almost too much to take.

They separated and collapsed back into the sand, breath heavy and blood rushing in their ears.

ooo

"Your understanding of taking a holiday is quite James Bond-esque, if I may say so," Alex stated, lying with his arms crossed under his head, dressed sloppily in only his shorts, glancing down at Ben who had nestled into his lap with a giddy, satisfied grin plastered across his face that just would not come off.

"So?" He queried in an uninterested fashion.

Alex grinned coyly.

"I like it."


	10. Lipstick Stains

**A/N: **No particular pairing in this, even though I personally see it as AlexBen – I'm curious about your interpretations, though.Cookies go to all those who get the title xD

**Disclaimer:** Same as always.

**Lipstick Stains**

She knew he was a spy, and a brilliant one at that. She had known since before they had started dating. She had known for a long time, as much as he may have tried to hide it.

There was one thing though, one thing he did not make any effort to hide, it seemed.

His eyes had long since stopped focussing on only her, fixing a spot above her head instead, like hoping to see someone else's face.

His touch had changed as well. It used to be gentle and loving, careful and reverent – now it had grown rougher, and worse – colder, as though his love was reseverd for that other person.

More than once had she tasted wine on his lips when she knew he had had only water, when she knew he had gone to visit that _colleague, _that_ friend._

The smell of his cologne that lingered on his shirts held traces of another's, held traces of sex.

She pressed her ear to the bedroom door. A gasp, a stifled moan, almost too quiet to hear, so quiet in fact, that it could have been but a figment of imagination, shook her cracking heart.

She knew he was a spy. She had known for a long time. She also knew he was cheating on her with another man.


	11. Cours Particuliers

**A/N: **Yay, I've beat the 1000 word mark! The title roughly means 'private lesson', the other translations are at the end of the chapter.**Disclaimer: **I still don't own Alex Rider, but maybe we could figure something out if Alex changed his name – right, shush? xD

**Cours Particuliers**

Alex hurled his pen across his room in frustration. He had spent the past two weeks in front of his desk, catching up with school at first, and then starting to study for his upcoming final exams.

To say he was bored would have been an understatement.

Though he might not have admitted it, he would have been glad to go on some mission by now. His fingers were itching for something more lethal than a fountain pen – those designed by Smithers not counted – his mind was craving a more dangerous challenge than algorithms and alliterations, his body was longing for – well, _any _sort of action really. But of course, MI6 had for once gone and cancelled anything that might have interfered with his exam preparation, deciding his education was of superior priority this time.

And he bet that Ben would tell him the same thing if he called... _Ben would be a most welcome distraction_, he mused with a wanton sigh. Before his conscience could protest, he had already formed a plan, a devious smirk spreading over his face as he grabbed for the telephone and dialled. After it had rung twice, Ben picked up.

"Hey Ben, would you mind coming over to help me? I've got some problems with biology and French," Alex asked in the most innocently pleading voice he could muster.

The line was silent as Ben thought for a moment. "Yeah, sure, I'll be there in half an hour, okay?"

"Yes, great. Thank you," Alex replied, letting relief fill his voice. He felt his lips tingling with anticipation. Ben would not even know what hit him...

Alex noticed the way Ben thoughtfully avoided commenting on the determinedly messy hair, the skinny jeans and the transparent shirt which he was wearing, the latter with the top buttons undone. He also remarked the dark eyes straying over the exposed skin of his neck and collarbones and the hands twitching ever so slightly in the direction of his hips. When Ben leaned down to whisper an innocent peck on his cheek, Alex turned quickly turned his head and cheekily ran his tongue across the other's bottom lip, eliciting a disappointing chuckle and no further reaction.

"Let's start, shall we, Alex?" Ben suggested placatively, keeping his voice carefully level. Alex smirked, taking the question as a challenge. "Let's shall," he agreed before adding, "Would you prefer French or biology first?"

"I don't mind either way, really," Ben shrugged.

"Then how about we start with some hands-on activities on the male anatomy," Alex murmured huskily, hooking his thumbs in Ben's belt loops to pull their hips together playfully, demonstrating rather clearly what he intended to study. Ben threw his head back with a guffaw of laughter that sounded only a little deeper than usual.

"Let's start with French, then," he decided, extracting himself from Alex' embrace. "I have a feeling you might get distracted otherwise."

"Mais, monsieur le professeur, j'ai vraiment plusieurs questions concernant ce sujet," Alex slurred the language to the best of his ability, lowering his voice intentionally, making Ben laugh even more.

"Really, Alex, if you make one joke about French kissing, I'm out of here," he threatened emptily.

"Damn, that was next on my list," Alex said dryly, motioning for Ben to sit down so they could begin with the matter at hand. Which was in fact something they had rather different ideas about.

They actually worked for half an hour, Alex studying Ben all the while, watching the way he relaxed slightly now he felt he did not have to be too wary of any more advances. Alex started sucking on one end of his marker, regarding Ben shifting uncomfortably from the corner of his eye. He took care to leave a purposeful smudge of colour on his bottom lip when he put the utensil down and turned to face Ben under the pretension of wanting to ask a question. He hesitated for a moment. Ben smiled lopsidedly.

"Look what you did, Alex," he shook his head and lifted his hand to Alex' cheek, brushing his thumb over the spot to rub it of.

Alex smirked and let tongue and teeth graze over the sensitive finger tip, enjoying the visible shudder that overcame the other. He grabbed Ben's hand with his own, keeping it where it was, not surprised at the lack of resistance. He nuzzled into the warm palm while he got up and straddled the older man. "I think it's time for a change of topic, don't you think?" He muttered into the crook of Ben's neck, peppering his skin with butterfly kisses, smiling when his breath became shaky and goosebumps spread under his lips.

He started opening Ben's shirt with tantalizingly slow motions, letting his fingers ghost over the expanse of bare skin, teasing pink nipples and moving on to the next button. "Who am I to disagree?" Ben sighed throatily, returning the favour of ridding Alex of his shirt. "Kiss me," he demanded.

The teen leaned back, grinning. "French?"

Ben sniggered. "Hell, yes."

"Dit 's'il te plaît'," Alex stalled, withdrawing. Ben readily complied with a gasped 's'il te plaît' when Alex ground his hips down urgently.

Their French kisses were messy and savage, catching up on something denied for too long. They soon stumbled towards the bed, landing in a tumble of sheets and entwined limbs, Alex' upcoming exams forgotten in the rush that was being with the other.

"Now, how about I show you what exactly I meant by 'hands-on activities on the male anatomy'," Alex grinned wildly, raking his nails down Ben's front.

"I'd - ah - like that very much... _monsieur le professeur_."

Everything else was touch and heat and bliss.

"French and biology, huh?" Ben remarked dryly from his lounging position on Alex' bed. "If there is anything you _don't _need any help with, it's French and biology."

Alex looked up from his work, turning towards Ben and letting his eyes wander over his lover's very toned and very naked body. He smirked at the love bites he had left on his thighs. "I needed a stress relief," he explained nonchalantly.

"Sneaky little bastard," Ben muttered hiding an appreciative grin.

"It's part of the job description," Alex shrugged and pretended to continue with his studies of _Huis Clos. _"Did you know there's a lesbian in this book?" He asked, waving it over his shoulder so Ben could try and read the title. "And it's not like your plans didn't coincide with mine," he picked up his former train of thought, miming the innocent distracted student that he was. Yeah, right.

"That's not tr-" Ben started to protest, but Alex interrupted him bluntly with a sarcastic jab. "You were wearing a shirt with poppers, for goodness' sake."

Ben smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. "You noticed?" He chuckled and had the decency to look at least slightly embarrassed. "If you knew though, why did you even make the effort? Not that I don't appreciate being, you know, seduced by you, but..." He trailed of and sniggered at his own choice of words. "Why didn't you just ask?"

Alex was silent for a moment, considering the question and carefully coining his reply. "It's not that I don't appreciate you, you know, wearing press studs, but..." he mimicked. "It's more fun this way."

Ben pondered the answer, not having missed the slight hesitation. He realised that Alex was afraid of admitting that he had not even thought of _just asking – _because just asking had never got him anywhere before. Just like honesty. Then again, Ben had not encouraged open conversations between them, either, assuming some things simply went unsaid. They were a little damaged like that, he guessed.

Stretching, he got up from the bed and collected his boxers before approaching Alex who was once more occupied with his reading matter. Firmly encircling him from behind, Ben pressed a gentle kiss to his temple. "Next time, at least try asking me, _d'accord_? I'll try to answer, too," he murmured against soft skin and tousled hair.

A short silence followed, the tension that had crept into Alex' shoulders dissolving. "All right," he sighed. "Thanks." He turned in Ben's embrace and stole a long kiss.

"Donc, tu m'expliqueras l'existentialisme, monsieur le professeur?"

**A/N: **Since I'm not sure if you all speak French, here some rough translations:

Alex says first "But, sir, I've really got several questions on that subject.", and then "Say 'please'"

"d'accord" means "agreed"

And finally, the last sentence means "So, will you explain existentialism to me, sir?"


	12. Reflections on Snow

**Disclaimer: **Same as always.

**A/N:** Inspired by the song 'Snow' by the Red Hot Chilli Peppers, which I recommend listening to while you're reading. (Also try the cover version by the Vitamin String Quartet!) It kind of resembles the wonderful OS „Life Through a Spyglass" by littleshush – Go read her stories! They're great!

**Warning:** slighty OOC!/angsty!Alex

**Dedications: **To Lilysdementor for beta-ing, to littleshush for writing lovely AlexBen stuff and to all you readers!

**Reflections on Snow**

_~All my life to sacrifice~_

At sixteen, Alex stands firm in his belief that happiness is a notion invented exclusively for fairy-tales. He has seen too much, done too much, carried too much weight on too young shoulders. He knows the harsh side of the world and he is more familiar with mankind's dark pleasures than with algebra and the history dates he should be learning at school. He has witnessed torture, murder and suicide, has felt the plans of the greedy and the hateful by first hand experience.

He faintly remembers his constant protests, his unwillingness to go on yet another mission, but now he admits he has come to enjoy the rush of adrenaline. There is no denying he is addicted to danger, even though that thought feels sick and wrong. Shame and anger rage in his punctured soul. He can feel the life seeping out of him with every wound he inflicts and with every death he causes. He does not see a boy when he looks in the mirror. In fact, he is shocked and disgusted by what he discovers every time anew.

Maybe, just maybe, he sometimes thinks, he needs help to retrieve his humanity. Unfortunately, he is and always will be too proud to ask for it.

Ben has long since come to the conclusion that innocence is but an illusion. In his mind, there is naivety and there is inexperience, but no such thing as purity. That is the reason why he never sees Alex as the monster that he makes himself out to be. Instead, he recognises a cracked soul in need of some glue, a boy too lost in false convictions to become the man he could be. Mending him will take lots of effort and love and even more persistence, Ben knows that, and he swears that he will not give up hope even if Alex insists on being suicidal.

"_You're completely exhausted, Alex," he says softly, urging the younger man to lay down with gentle hands. "Get some sleep, I'll stay and watch over you for tonight." Alex eyes are heavy-lidded but still alert, still tense, still waiting for an enemy to break down the door of his room and enter with a machine gun, expecting blood, and pain, and nothing else, nothing but pain, it is the only constant in his life, pain, pain and blood and -_

"_You need to relax, Alex. You should know you can trust me." Control slips from his grip reluctantly, rest is tenderly running hands through his hair... no, _Ben_ is. Why does he feel so tired all of a sudden? Why is his mind slowing down? How can Ben smile like that after everything that has happened? Ben's smile is a force of nature, an avalanche to tackle the volcano of Alex' scowl. "Did you drug me?" The expression on Ben's face changes. "No, I didn't. It just seems that your body is more reasonable than you. It's been a week since you last slept. Let me watch your back tonight." And for reasons he cannot explain, Alex gives in._

_True to his word, Ben does not leave Alex' bedside for the whole night. He observes the young spy attentively, intensely. Every movement, every noise registers in his mind and is filed away for future reference. He cannot yet comprehend it, but there is something special about Alex – and it is not only the kind of special everyone else sees when looking at him._

At eighteen, Alex is alone because Jack finally leaves him in a manner that is less bloody and yet more devastating than he has ever expected it to be. He has been anticipating it for a long time, but when it finally happens, he feels as unprepared as can be. Something breaks inside of him, something he does not remember having, one step forwards two steps back. When there is nothing whole, how can it break? There is pain again, pain, constant. He refuses to talk to Ben at all for two months and even after that, Jack is never mentioned between them.

Alex comes to admit that he is scared of speaking about how he feels inside. In fact, he is even scared of thinking about it. The problem is that he cannot help himself. He imagines his soul as a dark purpling bruise, as a stain of dried blood, as a coffin welcoming the dead and buried with his demons without escape. More than anything, he wants to deny, to forget, to erase those thoughts. And sometimes that little black voice that keeps breathing down his neck whispers that he would be better off dead. What is hell against his life? And who is left to miss him anyway?

It is during these times that Ben's smiles seem warmer than ever, charring his scarred skin and leaving blisters of guilt in his heart. Could this man really be what he needed? Could the heart that had died with the loss of Ian and Jack be revived? Could ashes be relit so easily? But it had never been easy – Ben just made it appear so. How can Alex dare to trust? How can he even try and be so dependent? Alex does not know anything anymore except for the pain, the familiar pain and nothing but the pain, or so he keeps telling himself because he is too scared to admit that Ben's smiles have become a constant in his life as well.

„_Another mission, Alex?" Ben sounds wistful and worried when Alex tells him about his briefing earlier that day. „Have you even properly recovered from your last one?"_

_Of course he has noticed that Alex spends even more time on missions than before – he has not been sent to MI6 for nothing after all. He also suspects that the responsibility for this does not lie with Blunt and Jones alone._

„_You have been doing an awful lot of extremely taxing missions lately. Don't you think you should take some time off? I'm sure we could convince Blunt and Jones to give you at least two weeks," he tries, knowing it will probably be in vain._

„_And what would I do with two weeks of free time? Go to school? Play football with my friends?"_

_Alex reveals more than he has intended to with that remark. His voice is hoarse for some reason and there is desperation underlying the aggression he means to convey. Ben looks surprisingly shocked._

„_I know that sounds strange to you, but I think you should. You can't live only for MI6."_

_Alex scoffs._

„_Why not? I bet they love having their number one at disposal at any given time."_

„_Of course they do, but it doesn't mean you have to put yourself into more danger than..." Ben searches for the right word but gives up soon, leaving the sentence hang unfinished between them. „I care for you Alex. And... if not for yourself, then please come back safe for me, alright? We will work something out together, then."_

_This time it is Alex who is at a loss for words. Hearing Ben actually saying what has never been spoken aloud before between them has an impact that is greater than he could ever have pictured. His heart clenches uncomfortably, his legs stumble forwards two steps and he falls against Ben's chest like so much lead. Strong arms envelop him and he finds himself unable and unwilling to pull away again. He does not want to come back, he wants to stay. Suddenly his resolve to go and get himself killed somehow shatters into tiny fragments of a nightmare tangled up in a dream catcher. Perhaps he was not quite right at sixteen?_

New events never cease to shake his world and make him tremble. When he returns after almost two months, the red of another bloodbath stains his hands and he does not succeed at washing it off. His heart is slowly overcome by midnight blue and icy ink. Ben has left for a mission and will be back in three weeks if everything goes well and having a family seems like a dream from his childhood now. All muted colours and no sound, broken sequences of a blurry old video tape. He is alone. He bites his lip and goes back to scrubbing the skin off his hands.

His mind remains fuzzy, torn, continuously stuck in a conflict between life and death, fight and defeat, protest and submission. Sometimes he wishes Ian had not died. Sometimes he wants to go to sleep and never wake up. And sometimes, secretly, he wonders what he would do without Ben. As the years go by and the seasons pass, he watches the world being reborn over and over again, but Alex just cannot escape from himself. He observes the people outside of his window, outside of his world, behind a thick pane of glass. They go about their lives as if the ground was not threatening to shatter and swallow them whole.

Christmas comes around with lights trying to emit false cheer and snow pretending to cleanse the world from all sins. Alex refuses to let himself be fooled into relaxing. He also refuses to go to Ben and talk to him after the heated discussion they had two weeks ago. Life for Alex had never been normal, never been simple, and it never would be, not after all the things he has seen and done and experienced. In the end it is Ben who visits, makes him sit down on the couch, at a safe distance from the window, and prepares hot chocolate for the two of them.

_Everything changes impossibly fast. Snow mocks the idea of innocence, lit by a white moon the night they first sleep with each other. Outside it is nearly as bright as day and Alex feels like crying in sheer bliss at the feeling of being able to feel. He does not know what makes Ben so special, and for once he does not care because his mind is glowing and his heart is beating so fast and there is Ben, not pain, only Ben, until the silence is broken._

"_Alex," Ben murmurs, a soft buzz in the crook of Alex' neck. "I love you." Alex' breath hitches and his heart stops with a suddenly overwhelming sense of fear. He quickly hides it behind a modest smile and a tiny peck, but he knows that Ben can differentiate between a thank you and a good bye. Alex stays for another hour, then he vanishes with the intention never to be seen again._

_He is on the run from the responsibility that is carrying someone else's heart and from the bindings that come with giving one's heart in return. Because the problem is, when you are too afraid to move, you are tethered of your own volition and against your will at the same time. And when you feel like wearing velvet gloves to touch something, then you are already in over your head. Alex knows that, and there is Ben and pain and - and he has never been this terrified in his entire life._

Unable to hurt Ben any more, and unable to let go, Alex returns on All hallows nearly a whole year later. He debates with himself, hesitating with his finger on the doorbell, unsure of what awaits him. Aged almost twenty-one, he realises that he finally has the power to decide to be normal. Normal people his age try and seize the day. He resolves to do just that and presses the button. It is a miracle that they are both still alive and he is not going to waste another second pondering when he can have so much more than dark thoughts and empty dreams.

Ben's face lights up like a child's on Christmas day when he recognizes Alex standing on his doorstep. Just seeing him makes the last ten months disappear from his memory.

"I don't know how to say how sorry I am," Alex starts and Ben waves the apology off and pulls him into a crushing hug, dragging him into his living room, ignoring the muddy snow from Alex' boots leaving a trail on the floor and soaking his socks.

"I'm so glad you're okay," he whispers as if nothing else matters, and it really does not, Alex agrees, because he is there and he is warm and he is in too deep to ever change his mind.

"Me too," Alex nods with his forehead still resting on the other's shoulder. "Let's start again, Ben."

"I love you." The words are like liquid gold, covering him inside and out and Alex thanks Ben, truly and honestly grateful, but he still cannot quite tackle his own feelings. It is disquieting how Ben can reduce him to sighs and desire with a simple kiss; how he can make Alex' heart soar with a single glance and a smile. It is a game whose rules he has never understood. He probably never will, but that is okay thanks to Ben. They can still play along without instructions and Alex knows that he will eventually succeed at saying it, even though Ben insists that there is no need to.

Soon Alex takes up his old job without difficulties on terms of paper work. MI6 is too happy to have him back and offering his services. There is a change in his attitude, though. He now works for them because he wants to help, not because he is forced to, or because he wants to die. The shadows that last in his eyes are reflected in Ben's as well, and he guesses that they will remain unchanged throughout the years that are still to come. The trick is to stand in the light, he comes to realise, so they do not bother you that much.

He leaves on a mission with a lingering kiss conveying desperation and the fear of not returning or returning to an empty house. He has tasted the same things on Ben's lips whenever he goes away as well.

Alex comes home looking like he never expected to. He stands in front of Ben when the door opens, staring like he is seeing an epiphany. And Ben has no idea what to do or say for fear of breaking something too fragile to be put into words. Right there and then, something delicate keeps their gazes locked to each other, no matter the chilling cold or the passers-by throwing them confused looks.

Then Alex takes a deep breath, like he is really breathing for the first time and wants to cherish the moment forever. A gust of wind sends powdery snow flying around them, glittering in the light of the moon and the street lights.

Alex takes the invitation of the season and with the words "I love you, too" he is reborn.

_~Deep beneath the cover of another perfect wonder~_

_~Where it's so white as snow.~_

**A/N:** I wish you all a wonderful Christmas and a happy new year!


	13. Bond Themes

**Disclaimer: **Same old, same old.

**A/N:** Not much to say about this one really, it's just another one of those plotless drabbles^^

**Bond Themes**

Alex scowled at himself in the mirror, straightening his bow tie in a frustrated gesture. Ben was humming the James Bond theme somewhere in the direction of the bathroom. Jack's heels were clicking in the downstairs hallway - she was probably looking for the camera and would be following him with it all evening. He swore to himself that he would not forgive her for making him wear dress shoes. And if she wanted to dance tonight, well, tough luck, she would just have to ask Ben who was - officially - her date tonight.

...seeing his partner in a suit really was the only highlight of the whole graduation-dance-thing. As much as Alex hated wearing suits himself, he could not deny that Ben looked rather stunning in one. And depending on how drunk he got Jack, he would surely be able to arrange some situation or other that would allow him the privacy to help Ben out of his suit once they returned... Alex smirked, letting his fingers ghost over his shirt collar when he noticed Ben glancing around the door frame over his shoulder, hands together with his index fingers pointing up, miming a gun. He was still humming that stupid theme; Alex had not counted, but he guessed it must have been somewhere around the sixteenth repetition and to say he found it annoying would have been an understatement. He sighed, took a deep breath and span on his heels, waving one warning finger at Ben.

"Would you _please_ bloody stop it!"

Ben stood in the doorway, letting his arms sink to his sides, his eyebrows raised. Tense silence flickered between them, Alex's eyes narrowed and his lips a thin line, Ben seizing him up appreciatively and not at all intimidated. His gaze came to rest on the finger aimed at him. Then a mischievous grin spread all the way from his lips to his eyes. "Goldfinger," he started singing, terribly off key. "He's the man, the man with the Midas touch..."

Alex growled dangerously and took some steps towards the older man.

"Do you want to get the kiss of death from this Mister Goldfinger?"

Ben let out a guffaw of laughter.

"You wouldn't want to explain that to Blunt, Alex," he answered and looped an arm around the younger man's waist.

"I'm sure I could think of something, my _golden girl,_" Alex murmured teasingly and softly brushed his lips over Ben's while burying his fingers in his lover's dark hair. The kiss deepened easily, slow, sensual movements and small gasps when Ben's hands wandered lower from their position at his hips and pulled him closer. Alex blurredly mused that they should just skip the dancing part and get straight to the after show party, before he decided to stop thinking at all.

Jack's heels had stopped clicking downstairs, but it did not register with either of them until her voice rang up to them.

"Get your asses down here, guys, your little _goldfingers_ can wait until we get back!"


	14. Coffee

**Disclaimer: **Still not mine.

**A/N:** I was going for a slightly different mood with this, I think... No idea if I succeeded, though xD Hope you enjoy!

**Coffee**

Ben yawned heartily and stretched his arms over his head. He had been sitting in his office at Liverpool Street for almost three days straight, with hardly a break after returning from a rather taxing mission in Italy, doing paperwork. As much as he loved his job, he sometimes wished it involved less paper pushing. Really, couldn't Smithers invent some gadget to deal with all the forms to be signed, reports to be written and statements to be looked over?

Ben threw a small, longing glance in the direction of his paper shredder, then he resumed his work. If he did it quickly, he could finish in two and a half hours, visit Alex in his office four doors down the corridor and help him with _his_ paperwork on that mission in Lithuania he had returned from just yesterday. And after that_, _they would be able to _relax_ together_,_ he thought with an affectionate smile.

A long hour later had Ben frustrated over a statement some over-worked secretary had typed up with seemingly no regards to orthography whatsoever. There went his plans for the night. And he was in desperate need for either sleep or caffeine, too.

Alex entered without knocking, carrying two steaming cups like a sanctum. He sat on Ben's desk casually, somehow managing not to crumple any of the godforsaken paperwork.

"Hey," he said tiredly, leaning to the side and putting one of the cups down in front of Ben. The movement made the dog tags he was wearing over his dark shirt clink together. Ben watched the evening light catch and dance on the little metal plates, one depicting the head of a snake, the other engraved with the letters BD. A small smile stole onto his face at the sight.

"I come bearing gifts. Thought you might need some coffee. I know I do." Alex announced quietly, but his hoarse voice seemed loud in the silence that was only disturbed by the constant buzzing of the air conditioning system and the occasional footsteps passing by in the hallway despite the late hour.

A smirk formed on Alex's lips. "It's just like you like your men. - Incredibly hot, rather strong and not quite as sweet as toffee," he declared with a wink and Ben raised a sceptical eyebrow, cautiously taking a sip from his cup. He wryly noticed that it was more bitter than sweet. "It's perfect," he sighed contently and put the cup down again. Grabbing the chain of the dog tags, he pulled Alex down for a sloppy, coffee-tasting kiss.

"Thanks. You're the best," he muttered huskily before letting their lips meet. He could feel the fatigue that had been pulling on his shoulders lift when Alex responded enthusiastically, placing the hand that was not cradling his own coffee on his neck, thumb ghosting over that spot just below his ear, evoking a light shudder. They soon added some teeth and tongue to the game, paperwork strewn about the table, forgotten.

"What? No smart remark?" Ben demanded with a chuckle when they separated, faces less than an inch from each other and breathing a bit more heavily. He vaguely felt Alex shrug and could see the desire shining through the weariness in his eyes. "Nah," the teen said in a dismissive tone, adjusting his position on the desk slightly so he was more comfortable before he leant in again. "I'm feeling a little tongue-tied."

**A/N:** Cyber cookies and coffee for those who caught the reference to the song "Coffee" by Supersister xP


	15. Breakfast at Ben's

**Disclaimer:** Alas, I still don't own Alex Rider

**A/N: **Be warned that this has absolutely no point. It's mostly to get a feel for writing Eagle, so let me know how I did?

**Breakfast at Ben's**

It was half past four in the morning when Alex sneakily let himself into Ben's apartment. He had not wanted to risk waking up Jack while looking the way he currently did, so he had gone straight to Ben's after reporting in at the bank. Running a hand through his dark-dyed messy hair when he entered into the small hallway, his eyes lingered on the door to the bathroom door while he made his mind up whether sleep or a shower had first priority. Finally he resolved that what he needed most right now was to crawl beneath the covers for some hours and curl up against the warm body already resting there. Dealing with the bloodstains would have to wait until later. He toed off his shoes and slipped out of his dark coat, revealing a once-white button up shirt.

Something was off. Alex sensed it when his fingers touched the knob on the door leading to the living room. Silently grabbing for his gun and bracing himself, he opened the door just a crack, listening. He had only two bullets left, so hopefully he would neither miss nor be faced with more than two enemies, if there were any – he really was not in the mood for that. The sound of soft snoring threw him off. It was not Ben for sure – Ben did usually not snore, or sleep on the couch for that matter. Pushing the door open wide enough to slide in, gun still ready, his alert gaze came to rest on a familiar figure spread over Ben's couch. Making sure they really were who he thought them to be, Alex shook his head in wonder, then sneaked past and approached the sanctuary that was the bedroom. _Sleep now, ask Ben about why Eagle was sleeping on the couch later._

The covers barely even rustled as Alex buried himself under them and lay close enough to his lover to feel his body heat. Ben, being almost as light a sleeper as Alex, woke up and groaned.

"Alex?"

"Go back to sleep, Ben."

"You alright?"

"Yeah. Just tired, so shut up and let me sleep."

Ben let out a weary chuckle and pulled him close, entangling their legs. Alex nestled his face into the crook of Ben's neck.

"You're scratchy."

"I'll shave tomorrow."

Eagle never even stirred when Alex passed by the next morning at nine, having caught up on a few hours of sleep and in desperate need of a shower and a change of clothes. Alex mentally rolled his eyes at the sight, not surprised in the least that he went unnoticed. He quickly made himself presentable, getting rid of the hair dye and the stubble, and slipped into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt he had borrowed from Ben's wardrobe on a whim – it was not like he did not have any spare clothes at the apartment, he just sometimes felt like wearing something that smelled of the other.

"Cub!" Eagle who had just been blinking the sleep out of his eyes jumped slightly when he entered the living room. "What are you doing here?" He demanded, and bounced up from the couch, forcing Alex into a manly hug.

"I could ask you the same thing," Alex muttered more to himself than to Eagle, barely refraining from punching the other man for entering his personal bubble. He could get up just fine in the morning, unlike other people he knew _coughBencough_, but he could not deal with someone like Eagle before his first coffee. Really, being so happy in the morning was not natural.

"Why, Cub, is that a gun or are you just happy to see me?" he teased, feeling the outline of the weapon Alex had stuffed into his belt out of habit. Alex smirked when Ben exited the bedroom behind Eagle, dressed only in pyjama pants.

"It's a gun," he growled at his former unit mate, causing him to let go of Alex, startled. "And I assure you, he knows how to use it. He won't hesitate to do so either."

A perverted grin that sent an uncomfortable shudder down Alex's spine spread over Eagle's face. "Oh, I bet he does... Ow, fuck, Cub! You don't hit people with blunt objects! No one taught you any manners?"

"He's got more manners than you, Eagle," Ben commented from behind him before following Alex into the small kitchen.

"Good morning," he said, pressing a chaste kiss to Alex's cheek, and then set out to make coffee while the other prepared some pancakes. "France went well, I suppose?"

"Yeah," Alex agreed. "Bit of a mess, but that was to be expected. Didn't stick around for the clean up, though."

"France?" Eagle walked in, still rubbing the bump on his head. Three grown men made the room seem cramped, but the soldier was oblivious to any unease his two friends might have shown at the limited space and the door blocked by him. In fact, the dirty grin had returned to his face. "So, do you like it French?"

Alex looked up from the frying pan with a raised eyebrow. "Actually, Eagle," he answered, dragging out the two words to build suspense, "I prefer it Scouse." The shameless reply sent Ben chuckling and Eagle sputtering indignantly.

"Make yourself useful," Alex coolly ordered the soldier. "Set the table and explain why you're here."

He was rewarded with a grumble, but the man moved, reluctantly obedient, towards the cupboard on his left where he knew his host stored the dishes.

"His girlfriend threw him out of their flat," Ben remarked with a smirk.

"What a surprise," Alex mumbled.

"Hey!" Eagle protested.

"But he could have just gone to Snake or Wolf, right?"

"Snake's on holiday with his family. And Wolf isn't on leave at all. So he decided to butt in with me."

"I shall not honour that with a comment."

"You just did, Eagle."

"...damn."

"Pancakes are ready," Alex declared and set the plate down in the middle of the table before choosing the seat next to Ben who immediately grabbed for the maple syrup.

"Eagle, you coming?" The teen called to where the soldier was still rummaging through the fridge.

He appeared in the doorway with one bottle in each hand and wearing an impish smirk. "Whipped cream or chocolate sauce?"

Alex groaned, hiding his face behind his hands, while Ben dropped his fork and clutched his stomach in laughter, leaving Eagle utterly confounded.

"What's up with that reaction?" He asked quizzically, then waited impatiently for Ben to calm down.

"Classified," Alex mouthed warningly.

"Aw, come on, Alex, I thought it was funny," Ben coaxed, an impossibly wide grin still plastered on his face.

"Of course you did, it was me who got the stuff all over."

"Not my fault. You wanted to do the _inside job_."

"Erm, guys," Eagle interjected hesitantly, "I think you should explain yourselves before I jump to any conclusions and decide to tell the others next time I see them."

"I doubt that you'd live to do so, Eagle," Alex murmured darkly.

"Don't mind him," Ben commented, ruffling his young lover's hair and getting his hand slapped away with a sticky fork. "He's just _sore_."

"Am not," came the pouting reply.

"Very mature, Alex. Anyway, there was this mission, you see, which involved a trip to Wonka's and a man who was slightly bonkers..."

**A/N:** Talk about random... This would have been so much better as a scene in a longer story, but I am just too lazy, I guess.


	16. Heartbeat Bullet

**Disclaimer: **Alas, they're still not mine.

**A/N: **Really guys, EIGHT reviews for the last chapter? You're so awesome! :D

This scene has been running in my mental cinema for a while, I sincerely hope it has turned out even half as good as it sounded in my mind. It's a bit of an affair of the heart, so to speak.

Please note that they are _not_ a couple, maybe not even real friends yet, in this one.

**Heartbeat Bullet**

Ignoring the worried, disgusted or admiring stares he was getting, Alex Rider walked quickly to the familiar door that led to Mrs Jones' office. He knocked and entered without waiting for an answer. The deputy head of MI6 did not seem to mind. She hid a bemused smirk behind a hand popping a new peppermint into her mouth.

"Alex, it's good to see you. I presume there have been no complications with your arm," she greeted him, not bothering to _inquire_ about his well-being. She had read the diagnosis from St Dominic's and asking about more psychological aspects would only gain her another smart remark from the sixteen-year-old, she knew that much. Alex nodded tersely, handing her some papers. "Here's my report on the mission, it's been a bitch to type with only my left hand, so you better don't complain about anything," he replied, not caring that he could have used a software with voice recognition or made someone type it for him.

"It will be flawless as always, Alex, I'm sure," she conceded, not in the mood to remind him of his language and get into an argument with him. Facing Ben Daniels earlier that day had been taxing enough. "I can compare it with the report agent Daniels brought in this morning, should there be any unclarities." The mention of his partner for his last assignment perked his interest, he raised an eyebrow, but regarded her neutrally otherwise. "He did seem a little... restless," Mrs Jones elaborated and they both knew she was making an understatement. "Maybe you should have a short talk with him." Alex expressed his agreement, never letting any emotion cross his face, though he was pleased that she seemed to care for her agents at least a little. "Can you tell me where he is?"

ooo

Panicked clicks and frightful bangs shook in his mind. Disturbed perfect folds of dark veils. Ripped holes into blind glass. Ben tried to swallow his heartbeat and ended up with it drowning out the lifeless noise on the outside. His erratic breathing was drilled into rhythm only by the relentless recoil. His fingers were numb, functioning automatically, gripping and pulling, moving and acting just to keep his feet from running away. There was nothing alive except for him. Black walls and white targets, cold metal and fire arms, and amidst it all that raw scratch in his throat and on the inside of his veins. It became even stronger when he noticed the figure entering the room.

ooo

Alex found Ben alone at the shooting range in the basement of the bank, just as Mrs Jones had told him. He had forgone security measures, no goggles, no hearing protection, and was firing wildly at white human-shaped targets with vital points marked red, not aiming and mostly hitting only the black painted wall behind them. Not a single red point had even been grazed. His angry eyes fixed on nothing at all, his right arm bouncing with the recoil of his gun. After a while of watching Ben make a parody of what was supposed to be training, Alex decided to step in, schooling his face into an unreadable expression.

"Are you still angry with yourself?"

Pausing in his actions to reload the weapon with the provided bullets, Ben did not respond. When he lifted his arm again, the shots came more irregularly, some of them ricocheting off the metal side walls and the ceiling. His face was stubbornly set into a distant frown.

"Ben," Alex reprimanded firmly, raising his cool voice just a little. "Stop wasting bullets like that. It's embarrassing."

Still not saying a word, Ben pulled the trigger one more time, the empty gun clicking quietly while the echo of the shots still rang in both their ears. Not averting his glazed eyes from the targets just yet, Ben reloaded again before he let his arm hang limply at his side, still clutching the weapon so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. His chest heaved with laboured breaths. Without a word, Alex approached Ben, gaze cool and calm, movements smooth and flowing except for his slightly stiff right arm. Ben glanced at him from the corner of his eye, finally returning to reality, and winced when he saw the stark white of the bandages peeking out from under the dark shirtsleeve.

"Ben," Alex said his name again and tried to meet his eyes. Ben looked away quickly, afraid of what _he_ would see and even more afraid of what Alex would see. The teen sighed aggravatedly, fed up with the behaviour of his fellow agent. "Would you _please_ stop beating yourself up about this," he ground out impatiently, not requesting but ordering. "You shot that bastard and saved my life. End of story." That had Ben snap his head towards him, usually warm eyes reflecting a turmoil of inexplicable anger and confusion.

"But I almost didn't! If I'd shot just a little earlier, if I'd aimed better, you wouldn't have been hurt at all," Ben's voice, his entire being, seemed to be shaking at the memory. Alex held at gunpoint, unarmed, unmoving, with his hands raised to the back of his head in surrender. Quiet acceptance in dark eyes when there should have been fear and begging. Ben had shot the man who had been aiming right between Alex's eyes, several times, but one bullet had ripped out of the enemy's gun, tearing through Alex's right biceps. The injury was not that serious according to the doctors, four to six weeks recovery time at most, and no lasting effects. _But still_...

"And if you had shot later or aimed worse, I'd be dead now," Alex countered, exasperated. He had never been one to ponder about might-have-beens, and neither had Ben, until now. "I got into trouble, you got me out. That's that. So what if it's been a close call? I've had worse, believe me." A tense silence reigned between them for a long minute, Ben's heavy and uneven breathing calming slowly.

"I know..." he finally muttered. _But that's not it_, he could not say, _that's not it at all_. He was overwhelmed by the sheer force of his worry, the panic he had felt that day was still fresh in his mind, washing over him in rough waves and pulling his feet from under him. He was out of his depth, he did not know how to tackle this situation, he was scared to look into it too deeply, afraid he would find more than he could handle. He could hear his heart hammering against his ribcage like all those bullets that had missed the mark.

Alex stepped closer, until they were standing chest to chest, eye contact never breaking. He lifted his left hand to touch Ben's right shoulder, then let it wander down along the arm until he reached the gun still held in that relentless grip, index finger resting on the trigger. He wrapped his own hand around the weapon, tangling their fingers, then raised it, aiming blindly at a target's head.

"Clear your head," he instructed. Ben did not have the strength to contradict him, but his mind remained in a state of disarray despite his efforts to find his centre.

"Breathe," Alex reminded him and he could not remember when he had forgotten to. "Calmly."

But Ben could not breathe calmly, not with Alex standing so close, warmth seeping through his clothes and his smell surrounding the haze that was his consciousness. The younger man was suddenly more intimidating than ever before. It felt like he had turned larger than life. Ben could feel Alex's voice reverberating in his own chest.

"You don't get it, Alex," he whispered, barely audible. Alex looked straight on into his eyes, boringly, as if stripping him to the core. Truth be told, Ben was not even sure he got it himself. He was not sure if he _wanted_ to get it either. Under Alex's scrutinizing, merciless stare he felt bare, exposed, but he could not find the will to tear his eyes away.

Alex shifted against him, leaning up, breath caressing Ben's cheek and then he was so close that Ben eyes fell shut because his vision started to blur. His heart was pounding in his throat, cutting off his air, when Alex whispered into his ear. "I think I do get it, Ben," he said evenly and it was somewhere between a taunt and self-mockery.

Jerkily he adjusted the aim of the weapon in their hands without looking, pressed their index fingers against the trigger and fired a single shot. Ben gasped, the report still echoing in his head. He did not need to open his eyes to know that the bullet had left a neat little hole where, with a real human, the heart would have been.

**A/N: **… it was supposed to be powerful, I hope I managed to convey at least a bit of that. It was also originally supposed to be Ben's POV entirely, but I just couldn't get it right.


	17. Dropping Things

**Disclaimer: **Not mine.

**A/N: **Be warned of OOCness and cheesiness.

**Dropping Things**

The late night had given way to early morning, but the occupants of the living room of the Rider residence were too far over the moon to care about going to bed. Jack had taken a little too well to K-unit (who she had met only some weeks prior) Alex decided, watching her give an enthusiastic a cappella version of _Born in the USA_ as she had been prompted to do by Eagle. She had also taken a little too well to the alcohol they had brought along.

"Alex," she demanded after plopping back into her seat on the sofa next to Snake, "will you be a dear and fetch some more popcorn?"

"Sure," Alex shrugged, getting up and leaving for the kitchen. The childish game continued behind him but he did not bother to strain his ears to catch every word. Only snippets carried over to him as he refilled the bowl with popcorn.

"...or dare?"

"Truth." Wolf's choice was accompanied by groans.

"...ever...Greek?" Roaring laughter and a grumbled, unidentifiable reply.

"Fox. Truth..."

"Dare."

"...to Cub." The answering sniggers sparked Alex's curiosity since Wolf was not usually very creative, mostly just ordering people to do sit-ups or push-ups.

When he returned to the living room, quoting Tom in his head ("Make way, peasants, for the bearer of popped corns has arrived."), Ben was standing in the middle of their merry round, scratching the back of his neck, avoiding eye-contact and looking overall very sheepish. Alex stopped in his tracks and raised an eyebrow in silent question.

"Um," Ben fished for words before he started, his voice a bit uncertain and his cheeks a rare but all the more delightful hue of pink. "Alex. I know that we started off as _unpleasant acquaintances _to say the least, and we've had some rocky going even after we put that behind us."

It was slowly dawning on Alex where the speech was heading and he was not sure whether to be embarrassed or amused (it was February 29th after all). He felt a little grateful for the bowl he was still holding on to, otherwise he suspected he might not quite have known where to put his hands.

"But," Ben continued, a slightly mischievous twinkle now playing into his eyes, "I feel that all the troubles we have overcome together have strengthened this bond we share." He had to pause due to Eagle's snickering. Alex noted that Wolf was smirking smugly while Snake observed the scene with a stoically neutral expression. To his utmost horror, Jack was dabbing at her moist eyes with the sleeve of her shirt in very much the same way she did when she watched Titanic or Gone with the Wind.

"That is why," Ben was speaking again, more slowly, more carefully now, as if to lead up to the grand finale, "I want to seal this wonderful love we have with something to prove it and show it to the world." He grimaced, as though the words had passed through too many mouths and had left a bad taste on his tongue. The next moment his face sobered up and he searched Alex's eyes with his own, negating all the mushy gibberish he had said for the sake of the dare with one look.

Then – he dropped down to one knee. Suddenly everything and everyone else in the room seemed to fade away into a blurry background, making room for the slightest hitch of breath. While a faint glint of bemusement still lingered in Ben's dark eyes, Alex could unmistakably see the raw sincerity that he would have deemed so out of place between all the jokes and laughs just a minute ago. He noticed his grip on the bowl wavering at the sight he was offered and quickly fastened his hands around the glass again, surprised by himself.

"I won't ask you to grow old with me," Ben stated, simply and seriously, "That's more than I could ever ask for. But it would be an honour to die young with you." Alex, for maybe the first time in his life, felt utterly speechless. He kept his wide eyes locked to his partner's who was still kneeling in front of him, calmly expecting a reaction. In the backdrop Wolf let out an indignant sound at the dare gone off-track, Eagle had stopped sniggering and Snake sat unmoving in what was perhaps shock, but might as well have been indifference. The silence stretched on, impatience vibrating in the air.

Eagle looked around, taking account of the situation and deciding to have mercy and break the silence, if only for the sake of his own nerves who could not stand the strain any longer. He poked Jack (who was chewing her lower lip to contain a sob) in the side. "You girl," he teased quietly, pointing at the tears in her glazed eyes. "I'm not crying," she gasped out, voice strangled and high. "Dammit." The short conversation had the desired effect of dissolving the tension; it looked like the two love birds were finally returning to reality, Eagle mused grinning widely. Cub had gathered his wits (and picked up his proverbial jaw from the floor), Fox seemed to have finished judging Cub's facial expression.

"Well?" Ben demanded, cocking his head to the side. "Are you going to make me kneel here all night?"

An impish smirk crawled over Alex's features. "You don't look too uncomfortable in that position."

"There are better ones," Ben scoffed, then wriggled his eye-brows suggestively, eliciting a cough from Wolf.

"You're looking good in that one, though."

"I'm sure I do. Are you going to look as good while answering?"

"Well, I think it might prove hard to talk Jack out of it," Alex retorted with a casual shrug.

"Meaning?" Ben probed, not trusting the implication.

"Meaning," Alex repeated, drawing the word out like tough bubble gum. He placed the popcorn bowl on the coffee table in an excruciatingly slow motion before he continued with a cheeky, winning smile that had girls swooning. "You might as well get up and come here to kiss your last name goodbye."

ooo

Ben Daniels absent-mindedly toyed with the dog-tags dangling around his neck. His fingers ghosted over the letters _AR_, engraved on one of his own, then over the _BD_ that showed on Alex's. With a bemused smile he remembered the night that he had dropped down to one knee and dropped that kind-of question while Alex had almost dropped a bowl of popcorn. He sighed contently, then rose and made to drop by his partner who had just come back from a mission to return the necklace that served as their sign of commitment.


	18. Heartstop Shot

**Disclaimer:** Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose.

**A/N:** This can be seen as a sort-of companion to Heartbeat Bullet. It's not nearly as long (or good) though, if you ask me. But I guess I'll leave you to form your own opinion.

**Heartstop Shot**

Ben signalled a 'thumbs up' from the other side of the closed door, his gun and his smile resembling quicksilver in the pale moonlight. It send a chill down Alex's spine, a cold reminiscence washed over him and his intuition tingled in the back of his mind. For a moment he did not feel the reassuring weight of the Kevlar around his torso, or the firm handle of the weapon in his own hand. Instead there was an unmistakable sense of dread, a warning that would not, _could_ not be heeded. Pushing the dangerous doubts away he searched his partner's eyes and nodded once in affirmation.

The door was open in a quick motion, fluorescent light spilling out of the room, playing over the floor. Curses rang out before being replaced by gunfire, a wild fury of sounds – bangs and screams and stopping hearts. One second they were charging in, and in the next things went Dragon Nine all over again. Ben moved in front of him and fell, his face surprised for only a second before calm and red took over, spreading into a halo of blood. Alex felt his mind shutter down, breath stuck in his throat and his heart giving one angry beat before fading into deathly silence behind the angry rush of blood in his ears. The only movement was his finger on the trigger, aiming for heads with SCORPIA-skilled professionalism.

ooo

Alex barely remembered their back-up arriving. He vaguely recalled shouting at them furiously, accusing them of being too late and cursing them to hell and back, while someone in the background called for a stretcher and bandages through the chaos.

ooo

St. Dominic's always stayed the same. There were the white walls and the smell of disinfectant and the soft brush of disease and death that lingered in every hospital. But here, those were accompanied by secretive glances, by whispers of _classified_ and by the steps of army boots belonging to the security personnel. Alex growled at the two guards blocking the door to room number seven, refusing to let him enter without identification. He thrust the allowance he had _politely talked_ out of Blunt into their faces with a sense of smug satisfaction at their expressions.

„Access granted," one of them grumbled as they moved to the side and held the door open for him.

Ben was as white as the sheets he was covered with, his dark tousled hair a stark contrast to his skin and the bandages wrapped tightly around his head. His eyes were slightly unfocussed as he turned to look at Alex, as though concentrating was taking him quite an effort. The doctors had warned him that Ben would probably be slightly out of it for at least a week, probably longer, but that there would be no lasting brain damage from the head graze. He was coherent enough for now, despite small impediments that nobody had bothered to specify for Alex. One doctor had suggested to treat him like he was drunk – no over-complicating things, or expecting rapid fire responses.

„'Lex," Ben slurred, his voice weighed down by fatigue and his accent stronger than Alex had heard in a long time. „You're alright. I'm glad." A slow, tired smile spread over his pale lips. Alex seethed at the sight.

„Don't throw away you're life for me!" He snapped, the worry and anger and panic of the last thirty hours catching up to him again. His throat was still sore from the shouting matches with pretty much everyone he had met at the Royal and General just this morning. He could barely feel is fingernails digging into his palms from the fists he had clenched unconsciously. Ben's faced melted fleetingly into a blurry glare that was more alarming than intimidating, then he suddenly averted his eyes, looking half-guilty, half-defiant.

„You're seventeen," he hoarsely whispered his excuse, his speech surprisingly clear for a moment, but it obviously took him an immense effort. The words hung in the air, wrapping around Alex's throat and constricting, because they both knew that they meant something else entirely – age of all things had long since stopped to matter between them. Alex was taken aback, shocked, and stayed eerily silent while he tried to comprehend, once more, what the past weeks, months, years had done to him and Ben. He desperately sought the right words, clambering up witty remarks to confuse the other, or to rile him up, or to lighten the mood, just so he would not have to-

Sighing, he went over to Ben's bedside, sitting down and gently laying his right hand on the other's cheek, caressing it with his thumb.

„And you're twenty-three," he replied affectionately, leaned forward and softly kissed his lover's bandaged forehead. "You're twenty-three."


	19. Delta Alfa Tango Echo

**Disclaimer: **Not mine :(

**A/N: **This is another coming-out themed one-shot as I mentioned in the A/N of Hot. I hope to write a different version of this sooner or later.

**Delta Alfa Tango Echo**

Alex Rider pensively stared into the flickering flame of the candle that sat on the table in front of him. At least he made it seem that way to the average unsuspecting onlooker, while in truth, he was listening in on the conversations at the surrounding tables and observing the other customers of the restaurant. It was a small-ish place, not enough so to be overlooked and attract the wrong kind of clientèle (meaning dealers of any kind, assassins or madmen aiming for world dominance, just to name a few), but not too public and overpopulated either.

There was a small business meeting some tables to his right and an elderly couple to his left. The entrance was right in front of him – Ben had made sure he had his back to the wall and an adequate view over the restaurant like the considerate _boyfriend_ he was. Alex grinned lopsidedly, remembering how Ben had, in a bout of enthusiastic queerness, declared it his aim to take Alex out on a normal date a while ago. So far, he had not been successful – going to that fancy Italian place had led to the uncovering of a huge drug deal by the Italian mafia that had made it to the front pages for three consecutive days before MI6 decided to put the media in their place. SCORPIA had tried to poison them at that French café* and he did not even want to think about that sushi place Ben had dragged him to.

Honestly, Alex could hardly believe they had made it past soup, salad and main dish without any notable incidents. (Apart from maybe that slightly imbecile waitress blatantly flirting with Ben until he had coughed to get her attention and carefully explained that he was not interested and Alex had felt the desire to add that if she didn't recognize two guys on a date when she saw them she should consider getting some common sense and maybe glasses which might at least make her look remotely intelligent.)

It was thus that Alex was not really surprised when three rather burly figures entered and immediately fixed him in a stare. He did however feel a little bad for Ben who would, upon returning from the toilet, find another plan failed, this time due to the unfortunate coincidence of K-unit having chosen that exact day and time and restaurant to have a get-together while they were on leave.

"Double-oh-nothing," Wolf grunted while Snake and Eagle acknowledged him with varying degrees of interest and a "Cub" and "Cubby!" respectively. Now Wolf and Snake, Alex thought with a sigh, might have let the matter rest after he had nodded 'hello' in response. There was no such hope with Eagle in the mix, though. The redhead strode over to him with bouncy steps and an impish grin that would have, admittedly, looked sexy on Ben, but that just plainly spelled doom from where it was on the SAS soldier.

"Sooo," he drawled, "Watcha doing here? Table for two? Taking some chick out on a date? Huh?"

"You know, I wouldn't be using a word for _fowl_ to refer to girls if I were called Eagle," Alex dead-panned without turning a hair and casually checked his watch, estimating how long it would take Ben to return while the man in front of him lost control of his facial features for a second.

"You little..." Eagle ground out, but let the rest of the sentence hang in the air to continue teasing him instead, "_Are_ you taking out some _girl_ then?"

Alex smirked when Ben chose that exact moment to appear beside Snake and Wolf who had stayed back a bit.

"Actually," he remarked, making all three men turn their heads towards him in surprise, "it's _my_ treat."

Eagle's and Wolf's eyes widened comically while Ben resignedly pulled his chair over and sat next to Alex, making room for K-unit who would surely not go and let them be now. Subtly, he let his hand wander and laid it on his partner's thigh in an almost defensive gesture. Alex leaned over and pecked Ben's cheek, half to mollify him, half to childishly shock the men still standing gaping at them. Surprisingly, Snake had already found himself a chair and was watching them with a calm face. He just shrugged and gave a crooked smile at Alex's questioning gaze.

"I'm perfectly fine with you two, if that's what you mean with that raised eyebrow," he said, then he turned to Ben who had relaxed a bit at the utterance. "It's good to see you again, Fox."

"Same goes for you. Sorry I haven't called in a while."

"'s all right. I can see you've been _busy _with our little _James _over there."

Alex could see a slight twitch lifting the corner of Ben's mouth in a semi-smirk.

"I think you should go to your boss and complain, Fox," Eagle added his two pence, having regained the ability to speak. "Cub doesn't look like a Bond girl at all."

The two spies shared a glance and barely refrained from breaking out into laughter, both remembering some scenarios that might have convinced Eagle of the opposite.

"Who says _he_ isn't _my_ Bond girl anyway?" Alex demanded, making the redhead chuckle.

"_I_ do, agent Rider," Ben commented, giving him a mock-glare and causing Eagle to shake with giggles, tears of mirth springing to his eyes.

"Is that what they keep you for, Cub? As an _agent rider_?"

Before Alex had the chance to react to the jibe and retort something, Wolf, who had sat down silently with his arms crossed over his chest aggressively, growled at them all to _shut the fuck up_. He glowered at Ben with dark eyes.

"How old is he again?" He interrogated him as though Alex was not sitting right there and listening as well.

"_Old enough_, Wolf," Alex determinedly cut off his partner before he could try and explain himself. "I've already chewed this through with Ben, I'm fed up with it."

"I want an age," Wolf grumbled, not satisfied with the answer. Ben's hand squeezed his Alex's thigh in a pacifying manner before he took over replying to Wolf.

"Alex is seventeen," he said quietly and put up his free hand to stop everyone from interrupting him. He kept his expression blank, eyes steel-hard and reminding Alex of missions and murder. "We have been... going out, or whatever you'd like to call it for about a year now, and you definitely don't need to go all moral on me, I've done that to myself long enough. As you see, I am not doing anything illegal albeit I'll admit it's unusual."

The two men stared at each other then, relentless, unblinking. Alex let his lips twist into a complacent grin. He felt strangely proud of Ben and his confident way of handling this unplanned coming-out to his old unit. His grin turned into a smirk at the thought, he always found it amusing to apply stereotypical labels to Ben and him, because he thought that they did not really fit anywhere into the restricted space of _boyfriend_ and _dating_ and _gay_ and _coming-out_. Even if – maybe because – those words made the thing between them sound so normal. And he had actually grown to like not being normal since he had met Ben.

"Fine," Wolf's gruff voice woke him from his musings. "Do what you want."

"Thanks," Ben nodded, his face serious and relieved. "I appreciate that."

A slightly stunned silence reigned at the table, K-unit observing them critically, as if to reassure themselves on their opinion about the two men in front of them. While a certain awkwardness did underlie the casual atmosphere, they had reacted well, Alex decided, especially Eagle and Snake... though he had his suspicions about why they were so easily accepting. Not to mention that Snake could be extremely perceptive, so he might have guessed something from watching them on the few occasions when they had met since Brecon Beacons... Their dessert arrived and K-unit ordered themselves starters. Just when the waiter had left and Alex had stuck the first spoonful of raspberry ice cream into his mouth, Eagle piped up again.

"Well?" He questioned. "Which one of you _is _the girl?"

**A/N: **...and that's how K-unit might react.

*I allowed myself to allude to 'Poison' by SamayouTamashi with that French café thing... Go read her Safehouse Arc, and her other fics, if you haven't already! ;)


	20. The Good Ones

**Disclaimer: **I (still) don't own Alex Rider.

**A/N: **O.O One-shot number 20! Seriously, I never expected to make it this far xD And I received 10 reviews for the last one-shot! Thank you so much! You're all brilliant!

Now, this is the third coming-out themed story, and has given me headaches. It was supposed to be a really short drabble-ish one-shot, and then it turned into, well, _this_.

**The Good Ones**

Ben woke up to find Alex's spot on the bed next to him vacated. He stretched while glancing at the alarm clock on the bedside table which displayed the time to be half past eight. Deeming it late enough to get up, he did just that, almost bumping into Jack Starbright on the way to the bathroom. She had a towel wrapped around herself, her wild red hair was wet and tied in a messy bun. An amused grin lit up her round boyish face.

"Morning, Ben," she greeted him, not uncomfortable at all with his presence, - or with his exiting Alex's room half-naked for that matter.

"Morning," he replied with a friendly smile, and they both turned towards the direction of the stairs, listening to the faint clinking of pots and pans down in the kitchen and breathing in the mouthwatering smell of bacon that drifted through the house. "Hmm, he's making breakfast."

"Well, we do keep him around for a reason," Jack winked and nodded towards the bathroom before she pushed down the handle on the door to her own room and vanished inside to get dressed. "Hurry up, will ya? I'm hungry."

When they joined Alex in the kitchen a few minutes later, he greeted them with a wide, open smile and a kiss on the cheek each. Then he turned back to the pan on the stove. Jack poured them the coffee that Alex had prepared and sat down in her usual place at the already set table, while Ben leaned his hip against the counter, gazing at Alex with a curious expression on his face.

"What's got you all happy?" He questioned. "That... Sabina, was it, visiting?" Turning to Jack before Alex had the chance to answer, he added a stage-whispered "Is he like this when _I'm_ coming over?"

"No, not really..." the redhead mused. "Maybe you should be worried?"

"I haven't really seen her in over a year, I'm allowed to look forward to it," Alex protested quietly, aware that they weren't listening anyway.

"He did use to have a crush on her, you know," Jack informed Ben, not minding Alex's slight flushing in the least. The teen nudged his partner with his elbow to catch his attention, ignoring the woman's statement.

"Are you going to come over when you're done at the bank this afternoon?" He asked. "I'm sure she'd like to meet you."

"And she did say she'd go for him in a year or so..." Jack contemplated, unwilling to let the matter rest.

"That was a joke. And anyway, you know that she's into older guys." Alex interrupted her, before joining the game. "Maybe it's me who should be worried."

"Are you saying I'm old?" Ben croaked indignantly. „I'll have you know that I resent that." He took a step forward, wrapped himself around Alex from behind and then proceeded to distract him by slowly letting his hands slide into the fronts pockets of the younger man's jeans and pulling him closer.

"If you manage to make me burn the eggs, I'm having you for breakfast," Alex playfully threatened, unfazed by the other's molestations.

Ben buried his face in the crook of his partner's neck, brushing his lips against soft skin. "Hm, yes, please," he sighed contently.

Meanwhile, Jack had given up on teasing Alex. She was looking on with a silly grin, clearly enjoying the show.

oOoOo

Heathrow Airport was as busy as usual when Alex arrived. He parked his BMW at the short stay parking – he was in no mood to take the train with the amount of luggage Sabina would probably be travelling with - and hurried to the terminal where she would be arriving in a few minutes.

Moving through the crowd with practised ease, he scanned the mass of arriving people for his friend's familiar face.

"Alex!" Sabina dropped her hand luggage to the floor, flung her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, almost sending them both toppling over. "It's so great to see you!"

Alex returned the embrace with an amused sigh. "Yeah, it is," he said and stepped back, subtly seizing her up. She looked good – that is, she seemed to have recovered from their last (rather involuntary and rushed) encounter in L.A. - something which he was grateful for, since he hated getting anyone involved with his job. And Sabina and her family especially had already had to cope with more than their fair share of that.

„Well, hey there," she nodded in an approving way, letting her eyes roam over him unabashedly. „Is it just me or are you getting more handsome every time I see you?"

Alex only shrugged in response, suddenly feeling a little uncomfortable and hiding it behind the nonchalant gesture. Sabina smirked at his evasive move, but she did not comment on it. Instead, she picked her bag back up and headed off towards the baggage claim, leaving Alex with no choice but to follow her.

„So, you been saving the world lately?" Sabina asked casually, keeping her tone light, as if she was joking. Alex smiled crookedly.

„Only a couple times, it's nothing really."

„It's always nothing with you, except it's not," Sabina scoffed, her bright blue eyes twinkling mischievously and reminding him way too much of Tom when he was up to no good. „You want me as your Bond girl to remind you of how awesome you are?"

„Uh," Alex responded eloquently. He knew she was a playful, flirtatious person, but the last time he had been on the receiving end of her... pick-up lines, there had not really been anyone else to 'remind him of his awesome he was'. At least not in the way Sabina was suggesting.

„Oh come on, Alex," she drawled, rolling her eyes, „Can't you take a bit of flirting?"

He politely refrained from telling her, that, yes, he could, it was just kind of awkward to have your former crush flirting with you when you had been planning to introduce your „boyfriend" to her later that day. Hence he opted to remark that there were other people one might call his 'Bond girls' (used as a loose term, of course) as well, Tamara Knight for instance, and that she shouldn't be claiming the title for herself so exclusively lest anyone feel left out. He did not add (out loud) that, if one considered the fact that he did not really care about the whole gender matter, one might even include several men in that equation with a bit of creativity.

Sabina looked a bit put out at his reasoning and his outright refusal to reciprocate her advances – something she was not used to at all – but unfortunately, that did not stop her completely from trying again every now and then during their conversation.

On the way to Chelsea, she kept chattering about America, and that he would have to visit her again (this time without the daggers and grenades, thank you very much) while Alex had mostly tuned out the superfluous details of her discourse and listened to her voice only - agitated, enthusiastic, hyper, _Sabina_ – enjoying her presence.

Apart from the occasional jibe towards his profession, talks with her always stayed in the normal world, the one in which harmless things like a failed exam or a broken fingernail counted as worst case scenarios. That refreshing overtness was one of the things he adored about her, in the same way he adored coming up with pranks with Tom – they were his little bright anchors in manner different from Ben or Jack or K-unit. It was really good to see her again.

The only problem was that he had no idea how to tell her about his... _lover. _Her habit of shamelessly digging on him did not help the situation in the least.

oOoOo

„Well," Alex carefully refrained from rushing the words too much, not wanting to give his unease away. „Sabina, this is Ben. Ben, Sabina."

With a tiny glance that would have been alomost impossible to notice for anyone not looking for it he warned Ben not to add anything to the introduction that had been offered. He had decided to discreetly nudge Sabina into the right direction, hoping that she would find out gradually about his and Ben's work relationship and everything beyond that, getting used to the idea slowly, so she did not feel hurt or uncomfortable in the end.

„Nice to meet you," the older spy said softly, with a polite smile gracing his features and an understanding twinkle directed at Alex in his eyes. He shook hands with Sabina.

„Nice to meet you, too," she replied, checking him out appreciatively, although her regard had the slightest melancholy quality to it. She nodded, her lips set in a resolute, firm line, and turned to face Alex. „You have a remarkably good taste. My compliments on snagging him."

Alex's eyes turned comically wide.

„Er... ah... Sab... how..." He spluttered incoherently, completely baffled that she had figured him out this easily.

„Oh, Alex. The good ones are _always_ either gay or taken," Sabina said in the same tone Jack always used to recite that sentence, accompanied with a playfully exaggerated sigh. „It's no real surprise to me that you're both. A bit of a pity, yeah, but no surprise."

Still speechless, Alex kept staring mutely at her, then at Ben who started chuckling at his dumbfounded expression, then back at Sabina again.

„It's called women's intuition, Alex," Ben explained, calmly and slowly, as though he was speaking to a child (or that slightly retarded secretary* at the bank), and wrapped an arm around the younger man's waist.

„Actually," Sabina mused, cocking her head to the side. „I think it's kind of cute. A~and we will go shopping tomorrow!"

Before Alex managed protest that she could definitely forget any gay best friend notions she might have had, Ben pulled him closer, a silly grin plastered onto his face. When he spoke, his voice was... _giggly_, and at least half an octave higher than usual and he made a gesture with his free hand that just screamed _flaming gay._ Alex blushed while, mentally he was somewhere between seething and sighing in resignation.

„You hear that, _muffin**_? She thinks we're cuuute!"

**A/N:** *remember 'Coffee'?

**Thanks again for helping with that one, Shush! :D

So, how did you like my take on Sabina? She's a bit OOC, I suppose, but I wanted to make her a bit more likeable than in the books. Why? Because Alex deserves some good friends his age. And yeah, both Jack and Sabina are slash-fangirls. xD


	21. La télévision

**Disclaimer: **I wouldn't be a poor student if I owned Alex Rider, now would I? In fact, I even borrowed the title from Toussaint, a French minimalist writer.

**A/N: **This is dedicated to _SamayouTamashi _who has been asking for more drabbles and who has written a two-shot based off 'Hope' and 'Certainty' (called _Unofficially_) which you will all go and read and review, n'est-ce pas?

**La télévision**

Ben had draped himself over the couch, lounging with his left foot propped up on the low table and his right arm flung across the head rest. When Jack entered the living room, he lazily glanced over at her and turned back to the television currently showing reruns of old cartoons.

Jack set down a bowl of crisps between them after plopping down on the other end of the couch. She shifted around uncomfortably, taking in the strange tenseness exuded by the spy despite his reclined position. Picking up the remote control, she started zapping through the channels. Lingering distantly on mindless chat show, switching music channels in mid-song and wincing whenever she passed the news.

Her thumb finally haled in the motion of pushing the channel up button as the screen began flickering and crackling with white speckles on a dark background. For what felt like hours they both stared blankly at the static dancing over the TV in front of them, stuck in their own two trails of thought which focused on one single person only. Painfully aware of the third presence missing on the couch between them, they turned to regard each other with glazed eyes. Silently sharing their yearning and sorrow, they remembered all the evenings spent together, watching films or playing games or simply talking until Alex would lean into Ben, sometimes entwining their fingers, other times not, and pull Jack along with himself, placing an arm around her and letting her head rest on his shoulder.

Jack's gaze lowered, fixing the crisps between them with a glare, as though it was their fault that Alex was not with them. In a furious swipe she threw the bowl off the couch, creating a mess on the carpet. Ben was still watching her, a soft frown forming on his face, then changing into an expression of odd satisfaction. Scooting over towards her a little, he pulled her into a loose embrace while she allowed herself to give into the warmth of the young man beside her.

Their eyes fell on the TV screen again, the bright spots still raging on it, a hailstorm to calm hurting hearts. Curled up stiffly on the couch, they waited for something to happen.

**A/N:** Hope you liked it and I managed to get the mood across – I'll leave it up to you to imagine what happens before and after this scene.


	22. AF: Extracurricular Project

**A/N:** _Yay, an update! Hope you enjoy!_

**Disclaimer: **_Alex Rider is still not mine._

**Extracurricular Project**

Alex bit his lower lip when the door leading to the staircase creaked ever so quietly, the slight noise impossibly loud in the silent hallway. Setting down his feet slowly and carefully, he sneaked down the tiled steps. The green light of the emergency exit signs shed an eerie glow of an undefinable hue over his skin in the otherwise unlit stairwell. He could hear his breath and the tiniest rustle of his dark clothing as though a microphone was multiplying the volume of the sounds.

Three floors down, two to go. His goal was the basement. Alex concentrated on the weight of the coins in the left front pocket of his pants and secured his hold on the bag slung over his shoulder, always clutching the bottle in his right hand in a firm grip. His heartbeat was picking up speed, nervous despite knowing exactly what he had to do. He had studied the habits of his target for almost a month now, and he was absolutely positive that everything would go according to plan. At least as far as the timing went. Still, he felt unprepared for the upcoming confrontation.

Arriving in the basement, Alex took a deep, steadying breath. He squared his shoulders and gathered all his courage, eyes fixed on the door in front of him. The door behind which he knew he would find his target. A last thought of turning around and abandoning his mission flickered through his mind, but he pushed his doubts aside. There was no way back now. Another breath, steeling himself, and he pushed the door open and entered.

The young man inside the room looked up from his task of stuffing his laundry into the washing machine. He was in his early to mid twenties, with dark hair that was currently still messy and moist from his morning shower, and framing his high cheekbones and slightly chiselled features. When he caught sight of Alex, his lips spread into a smile and his dark eyes twinkled warmly, the expression shining with boyish charm.

"Hey," he greeted cheerfully with a Liverpudlian accent. "It's you again. Good morning."

"Yeah, me again," Alex grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head in an innocent gesture, cautious not to let it slip that he had meticulously scheduled and prepared this encounter for at least three weeks. "Good morning to you, too."

"You live on the fourth floor, right?" The young man enquired while he finished with his laundry, inserted coins into the machine and selected _standard_. Alex advanced, letting his bag slide down his shoulder and setting it down in front of another washing machine.

"Yeah, room 437," he answered and began moving his own laundry into the drum.

"Ah, funny, I live in 237," the other remarked, waiting until Alex had turned on his machine as well before extending a hand. "We keep meeting each other down here, so we might as well introduce ourselves properly, don't you think?" He offered, and Alex smiled mentally – this went more smoothly than expected. "My name's Ben."

"Alex," Alex nodded, shaking Ben's hand. "Alex Rider. Pleasure to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too," Ben replied, winking cheekily. "So, for all the times I've seen you this year, I didn't see you during the last one. You a first semester?"

"Yeah, studying foreign affairs," Alex elaborated, hoping to engage the older student in conversation for a little longer. "What about you?"

"Ninth semester, half through with my Master of Education," Ben explained, casually sitting on his washing machine, ignoring the sign taped to the wall which advised him not to.

"An MEd? Which subjects?" Alex copied Ben's idea, settling on a dryer opposite him. They were getting comfortable. Good.

"Well, I did my BA in chemistry and French, and I'm doing physics as my third subject," Ben told him, then bent his head left and right, cracking his neck and rolling his shoulders. Alex was watching the movement to intently that he almost missed Ben's next question. "You liking uni so far?"

"Yeah," Alex nodded without much enthusiasm. "It's all right so far."

"'kay, if you got any questions, you know where I live, right?" Ben smiled his boyish smile again, and added with a chuckle, "And when I do my laundry."

Alex almost choked, worried about having been caught in the act of shadowing Ben, but he decided to play it off as a joke and change the topic.

"Thanks for the offer, Ben," he said. "Actually, I do have a question. I've been thinking of doing some module in business French... any profs you'd recommend?"

"Well," Ben laid a finger on his lips and made a great show of contemplating the question. "You should steer clear of Mme Eymida..."

Barely refraining from skipping up the stairs, Alex did not care about the noise he was making, his steps falling a lot less carefully than two hours ago, and his bag of freshly washed, dryer-warm clothes brushing along the metal railing. It was Sunday in the hall of residence, but it was also already ten, and most of the students would be awake by now. On top of that he could feel the crumpled piece of paper in his pocket, and he already knew the hastily scribbled number on it by heart.

He could not bring himself to care about anything else.

Extracurricular project get-hot-guy-from-237, stage 01.

Mission accomplished.

**A/N: **_Yeah, this is actually an AU in which neither Alex nor Ben ever worked for MI6 or joined the SAS – I've been wondering for a while if any AR-AU would work, so this is my try at one – not that I'm planning to elaborate or anything – but please let me know what you think ;) _

_The idea actually came to me this morning while I was myself sneaking down to do my laundry in the basement, trying not to wake anyone, and then met some guy with the same idea downstairs. Wasn't Ben, unfortunately. xD_


	23. AF: September 27th

**A/N: **Here goes the first half of the anniversary special!

**Warning:** This is an **Alternative File**, meaning the same **AU** as 'Extracurricular Project', since I received an overwhelmingly positive response for that. If you don't like, please don't read, and enjoy the other part of the special instead!

**Disclaimer:** Alex Rider is still not mine.

**Alternative File: September 27****th **

The early morning light was only just beginning to seep through the curtains into room 437 when the alarm clock started ringing brightly. Alex tried to bury his head even deeper into the crook of Ben's neck, ignoring the shrill noise and instead relishing in the comfortable warmth of his boyfriend's body intertwined with his. He groaned when the alarm would not shut up and protested slightly when Ben leaned over him to turn it off, guarding an arm around his waist to avoid pushing him of the bed.

For a moment they did not move, Alex peeking up at Ben lazily and Ben smiling down at him with content and fondness. Alex let his mind wander off to the evening before, having dinner and going to the cinema, then Ben accompanying him to his room at the hall of residence, sneaking in because they were a, late and b, not allowed to bring guests overnight. Alex remembered the memorable end to a nice Sunday evening, feeling a light flush rise to his face.

They rarely managed to meet or go out now that Ben was doing his teacher training, and the missed hours of sleep, Alex thought with a suppressed yawn, were definitely worth it. That did not stop him from complaining, though, when Ben started to climb over him and get ready, leaving his place under the covers deserted and Alex feeling cold.

„It's way too early, Ben, come back to bed," Alex grumbled, „Just five more minutes."

„Five more minutes, yeah right," Ben scoffed, but leaned down to brush Alex's hair from his face and place a light kiss on his forehead, his nose, his lips, „While you might be able to skip a course or two, I actually have to classes to teach."

„All right, all right, I'm getting up," Alex conceded, standing and stretching, making sure to show off his body with the intent of making Ben blush that adorable little blush of his due to his current state of undress. „Take a shower with me?"

Instead of turning red, Ben let his eyes roam freely, and while Alex was a little disappointed at the lack of colouring on Ben's cheeks, it felt good to be looked at with such desiring eyes. He made no effort to take up Alex's offer, though.

„Do you know what date it is today?" he asked suddenly, schooling his face back into a neutral expression and keeping his dark eyes fixed to Alex's. The blonde gave a shrug.

„September 27th. Why are you asking?"

„Last year this date was a Sunday, you know," Ben replied with a meaningful smirk.

Alex raised an eyebrow at him, but then he remembered sneaking downstairs to the basement, hoping to succeed in his plan to _get-hot-guy-from-237._

„And you were doing your laundry, right?" He said, returning Ben's smirk before grabbing the back of his neck – for lack of a collar – and kissing him passionately. He briefly considered biting his lip to maybe leave a bruise for Ben's pupils to ask about, but decided to have mercy and pull the man towards the shower instead, turning on the warm water with a fumbling left hand, while keeping Ben close with the other.

„Happy anniversary, then, hot-guy-from-237."

**A/N:** Hope you liked it, even though it is a little short^^


	24. Six Years  Reprise

**Disclaimer: **Do I have to repeat it _again?_

**A/N:**And here's the second half of the anniversary special – You get two updates in one day, I expect some reviews as well as a bit reminiscence: which one was your favourite one-shot, what could you have done without, what do would you like more of?

This goes especially to those of the 55 people who favourited this story and have never reviewed – I honestly appreciate the favourite, and I don't want to seem like I'm complaining about a lack of reviews (wouldn't dream of it!), but still, even a one-word review once a year would totally make my day! ;)

**Any way, a huge – and I mean HUGE – thank you goes to everyone who read/reviewed/favourited/alerted this** – I never expected a response this big or this positive!

On a completely different note... has any one of you ever seen (or drawn) some AlexBen fanart?

**And now, finally, enjoy this little piece of almost-nostalgia! :D**

**Six Years - Reprise**

**Alex**

Alex startled out of his reverie when he caught himself staring _again_ at Ben who was currently melting chocolate next to him. Looking down to his own task – slicing fruits for the fondue – he bit his lip to hide a smirk.

"_Seven years," _he remembered telling Sabina when she had remarked that Lefevre was 'only a bit older' than her at Wimbledon. And yet he _still_ found himself undeniably attracted to the same man who was his senior by six years. But hey, _"That's nothing these days," as _his friend had answered back then.

Alex pondered over the past year, letting everything flash through his mind again, and marvelled at how fast 365 days had passed. He remembered telling Jack "totally", and stuttering in front of Sabina, remembered cuffing Tom over the head, and grumbling at Wolf, remembered making fun of Eagle and simply nodding at Snake.

Most of all he remembered Ben, pushing him against a wall, warm sand and warmer hands, satin sheets, dull worry and violent panic, Valentines cards, senseless relief and boneless legs, popcorn bowls and minutes, moments, kisses that made him forget about everything but the feelings he had almost forgotten he could feel just a year ago.

Without noticing, he had leaned closer to Ben, feeling his warmth, breathing his scent mingled with chocolate, revelling in his presence. Subtly he glanced up at the man, noticing a faint pink had spread over the his high cheekbones. Alex smirked, letting his eyes roam over his lover appreciatively. Screw the fondue. He pushed his knife and cutting board to the side and dipped a finger into the almost completely molten dark chocolate, his gaze never wandering from Ben's face.

Slowly, he ran the chocolate covered finger down Ben's left cheek and neck, only to grin up at him darkly and start licking it off with a skilled tongue.

"Screw the fondue, Ben."

ooo

**Ben**

Ben fought down a light blush when he caught Alex staring at him again, and stubbornly focused on the melting dark chocolate on the stove in front of him.

Somehow, he still could not quite believe how much the past year had changed them – Alex had regained much of the boy he must have been before his uncle died, and had at the same time gained a whole new knowledge of and belief in the world, while Ben himself had left behind the worries and doubts that had been drilled into his mind – occupation, age gap, gender – and had found a reason to keep smiling and breathing and being human instead.

Vividly, he remembered the feeling of parachuting for the first time even though his feet were on solid ground, remembered white hot hope and concrete certainty, remembered humming Bond themes and learning to _just ask_, remembered flickering TV screens and evening sun reflecting on engraved metal, remembered all things Alex, all things _his_ for 365 days.

Ben sensed more than saw Alex leaning closer before he actually felt the teen's weight and warmth against his side, and hardly noticed himself pulling the other in for a loving kiss, titling his head in a way that had become assuringly familiar, to meet Alex's lips with his own. He sighed when his younger lover returned the gesture eagerly, and gasped slightly when a chocolate covered finger suddenly drew a line down his left cheek and neck.

By the time they ran out of chocolate they were both in need of a shower, clothes and all, but Ben could not have cared less. He was happy – from his toes to his fingertips, filled to the brim with tickling, tingling happiness at the sight of Alex grinning at him, a rare euphoria on his chocolate smeared face. Ben let a hand slide through the blonde's hair, stopping at the back of his head and pulling him into another kiss, a slower one, one he poured all his memories of their past year into.

"Happy anniversary, Alex."

**A/N:** Make my day? ;D


	25. Monster

_**A/N:**__ I actually started this as a more or less serious dark!Alex piece, and then it kind of turned into smutty crack... oh well, I guess that can't be helped when you're writing a Lady Gaga Songfic xD Also, since it's forbidden to quote the lyrics, I inserted linebreaks instead and I'll let you figure out which verse(s) go where ;)_

**_Warning: _**_dark!Alex, kind of violent/edgy_

_**Disclaimer:**__ The monster ate the contract that confirmed my ownership of Alex Rider, so I guess I still own nothing. And credits for the song go to Lady Gaga of course._

**Monster**

_I've never seen one like that before_

Alex Rider fights with as little effort as he shows mercy. He has been doing this for years now, and Ben has been looking on all the while. He has witnessed him changing from someone stumbling into fights, messy and emotional and young, to someone aiming, perhaps even enjoying to kill. Lethal.

With his breath stuck in his throat, Ben watches and worries that the should-still-be boy's perfection is coming to border on insanity. The young spy dances around the edge, tiptoes around a razor-blade, something savage and arresting pounding behind dull brown eyes.

Another enemy sacks to his knees, eyes wide and blood trickling from a wound on his temple. He hits the ground and lies motionless while Alex spins away gracefully, his elegance reminding Ben too much of Yassen Gregorovich and too little of the boy who went to an SAS camp once upon a time – and once upon a time is a fairy tale resounding faintly in his mind. Today, there is only blood and gore and morbid fascination.

_ooo_

Ben's knees almost buckle when Alex strides towards him, hair tousled and breath heavy. His face is speckled with crimson red, his hands carry the traces of the lives he has taken. Ben knows nothing as scary, nothing as tainted and nothing quite as erotic as the young man in front of him.

The worst thing is, Alex _knows_. Alex knows about Ben's dark longing, his leaden gazes and the wandering hands in feverish dreams. He knows that Ben is tempted to play with something more dangerous than fire. So Alex offers the bare skin of his neck to greedy stares, throws coy glances from beneath glittering eyelashes and sways his narrow hips just so. Ben thinks, feels, that it is sheer madness. And he is terrified. It takes all the willpower he has to refrain from giving in.

_ooo_

Alex strides through the hallways of the bank with the confidence and determination of someone who has done so for at least half his life – and if he survives another eight years doing what he does, that comparison will actually hold true. None of the employees they pass – secretaries, tech staff and field agents alike – raise their eyes to meet Alex's, afraid of the cold dark madness residing there – afraid of that very same madness that Ben cannot free himself from.

Had he been younger and more naive, had he gathered less experience in lying and cheating and playing the killing game, Ben might have called his connection to Alex some kind of hopeless devotion – but he is not a starry-eyed fool anymore, he knows that there are no red threads, but that there are handcuffs, and if he was not afraid to name it he would call it lust, desire, incurable addiction.

Holding the door to Jones' office open for him in a grotesque parody of gallantry, Alex once again captures him in his wild gaze. He makes a gesture with his hand that looks incredibly lewd for a simple signal to hurry up. Ben has to make an effort not to stumble.

_ooo_

Alex leers at Jones, talking in a condescending, arrogant tone that no other agent would ever even think about using when called to the head's office. He never sits down when she asks him to, though he does lean against the table, half-draping himself over it whenever she does not offer him a seat. He is provocative, always playing power games, showing her that even though technically she is his superior, she would be nothing – or, well, maybe dead – without him.

Ben knows how much he revels in his self-importance, in a nearly violent manner that would have made him despise himself just six years ago. The boy Ben had once saved from the jungle and taken a bullet for has been gone long since. The boy Ben might have fallen in love with has vanished. In his place there is a predator, a full grown bird of prey, and Ben feels like he is going to be devoured without mercy – he knows, actually, and he cannot go on denying it, but he might not, will not, survive admitting it. Some part of him will have to die, Ben is sure that this will cost him his morals, his sanity, and every little bit of self-esteem that he had left.

_ooo_

Ben keeps on stealing glances, utterly fascinated and irrevocably stuck by Alex's sick grace, and with every one of those glances, his vision seems to blur a little more. He is starting to forget about the words right and wrong, he has long since forgotten about the colours black and white. The world is a dark grey and he longs, yearns for that sliver of silver ecstasy that is dangling right before his eyes, just out of reach, until he finally breaks the chains holding him down and accepts the rough rope Alex uses to tie his hands to the bedpost.

Alex makes Ben taste the fine line between pain and pleasure, makes him sway from one to the other and back. Fingernails digging deep enough into Ben's bare skin to draw blood, he bites at his shoulder, teeth grazing over his neck, red-tinged lips stretching into a wide grin with the feeling of utter control, and growing even more violent when Ben moans and gasps desperately, fighting against the new restraints on his hands like he only just realises what he is doing – like he is trying to wake up from a nightmare. But there is no escape, and Alex tells him just that. The words alone are almost enough to make Ben topple over the edge and into white static oblivion.

_ooo_

When Ben notices that the employees at the bank have started to avoid eye-contact with him as well, he is not shocked in the least – in fact, it does not affect him at all. He is too far gone, too tangled, too corrupted – and he enjoys it way too much. He has stopped to care and instead cherishes the depravity of his addiction to sex, to pain, to the monster called Alex Rider.

_He ate my heart and then he ate my brain_

A/N: Um, yeah... I'll go hide in a corner now and feel ashamed of myself for having written this. I just really had to get the idea out of my system xD


	26. AF: Out of the Bag

**A/N:**This turned out a little shorter than I expected, but whatever. I felt an irresistible urge to post _something._

**Disclaimer:** Same as always.

**Warning:** ALTERNATIVE FILE! Meaning AU! Takes place shortly after 'Extracurricular Project'.

**Alternative File: Out of the Bag**

"Hey Ben!" Alex called, leaning over the railing to be visible to the other when he looked up, and hoping it would not be too obvious that their meeting in the staircase was not quite as coincidental as it might have seemed. "Wait up!" He gave a short wave and jogged down the two flights of stairs to where Ben was standing and waiting with a grin.

"Good morning," the older student offered and Alex returned the greeting with a small nod, "What's got you all hyped up? It's not normal for students to be this awake at half past seven, you know."

"I finally caught up with the reading tasks," Alex explained with a shrug that turned into a slow roll of the shoulders to ease the tension from last night's prolonged study session. "So hopefully I'll actually have a weekend this time around."

They passed the entrance hall, momentarily halting in their conversation to nod politely towards the receptionist, and were just about to exit the building when the cat* that seemed to have chosen the hall of residence as its home (there were lots of people to feed and pat it, after all) suddenly shot inside. As soon as it noticed them, it was already brushing around their legs, purring loudly, interrupted only by a single demanding 'meow'. Alex crouched down to scratch the animal behind its ears obediently.

"The cat's got you whipped," Ben snorted, causing Alex to glance up at him in bemused surprise.

"I prefer pets to children. Way less annoying," Alex retorted with an exaggerated shudder, then added, "You more of a cat or a dog person? Or don't you care either way?"

A smirk spread over Ben's features at the second question, like his thoughts had just taken a completely different direction. The impression was strengthened when he answered with a suggestive wink at Alex.

"Cats," he said, before he also squatted down to caress the cat, (maybe not quite so?) accidentally brushing by Alex's hand with his own for a second. "But I do tend to make exceptions."

"Exceptions, huh," Alex echoed eloquently, stalling for a moment to let the implication sink in, double and triple checking if he had understood correctly – or just heard what he wanted to. It appeared that Ben was really flirting with him.

"Do you like olives?" the older student asked out of the blue, startling Alex out of his calculations. He chuckled when Alex raised a sceptical eyebrow, then stood and offered the younger man a hand up. "Wanna go and grab a coffee or something after uni? I'm free from two to six today."

**A/N:** Please do point out if I'm not making sense anywhere. Immersing myself in the French language is messing with my English, now more than ever – it's already been two months!

*inspired by the cat that lives in the hall of residence here in Besac


	27. Crimson

**A/N:**I should probably have published this on Halloween... Oh well, whatever. Enjoy

**Disclaimer:**I own neither Alex Rider, nor vampire!Ben. :(

**Warning:** Smut. Vampire!Ben. Hehe...

**Dedication:**To PsychoWing, whose fic 'Somnium Visum' gave me this idea.

**Crimson**

Cold hands clawing into his shoulders with a firm grip that was sure to leave bruises ending in ten red fingernail half-moons, frozen between thrusting him away and hauling him closer.

"Don't, don't, please, please, please," he breathed all over, mute with terror. Weakening with involuntary desire, the begging words inexplicably faded into a numb chant.

Cool air ghosted over his neck, lips and teeth grazing the sensitive skin under a sensually moving mouth, sweet nothings and promises of still sweeter ones brushing over and through his entire being.

"Ben," Alex gasped at the sudden pain of one sharp canine drawing a single drop of crimson blood that was licked off with a mutter of _so __delicious._

The hands let go of his shoulders when his knees gave in, guiding him to the ground with surprising gentleness that coaxed the last bit of resilience from his dazed mind with vampirical allure.

His glazed over eyes found Ben's, took in the raw hunger reflected, almost a tangible caress, making him groan and arch his hips in a feeble attempt to create friction.

Ben slowly, reverently, opened his shirt, cold pale lips kissing down his chest, tasting the foreign pulse of a beating heart. Only vaguely aware of the volume and speed of its rhythm, Alex watched Ben linger for a second in fascination.

"Have me," he heard his own voice, muffled, as if it was as far from his grasp as every bit of his self control, and then a wanton moan as Ben's bloodless hands worked their way down to his belt.

"I intend to, Alex, believe me," his deep voice replied, husky and dry, like pleasure turned into a noise. "You're mine. Mine to take and mine to taste."

A horrified lust cruised through his body, too easily responding to the other's ministrations, too willing to comply with his every beck and call. His vision was flickering black and white and crimson.

"Did you know that blood tastes so much sweeter just after sex?" The question fell on deaf ears, tuned out by a held breath at the peak of too much sensation.

Then a short silence of anticipation, waiting for his own blood curling scream ripping through the brief moment of little death when Ben would sink his teeth into his neck -

The sound of porcelain on wood startled Alex out of his daydream. Nightmare. Fantasy. Whatever. His cheeks grew warm with a crimson blush when he noticed Ben staring at him with an expectant and bemused expression, his hand still on the mug of steaming tea he had just set on the table in front of Alex. _How __very __embarrassing_. He should not have let Jack talk him into watching that vampire chick-flick with her. That might have saved him the mental images that had just left him in a cold sweat of passed over fear and, paradoxically, painful arousal.

"You all right, Alex?" Ben inquired with an amused smirk and a raised eyebrow. He leant down to Alex, so close that their noses were nearly touching, then continued in a much more seductive tone. "Having some naughty thoughts?"

Alex pushed him away, and undertook a desperate try to hide his face behind the tea cup that he had quickly snatched from Ben's warm fingers.

"I'm just fine, thank you very much," he muttered, trying to chase the weird, childish and oddly erotic ideas out of his head.

Ben shook his head in amusement, and his smirk turned into one of his toothy, boyish grins.

Alex could not help giving in to the urge to throw a subtle glance at his teeth. His canines, to be exact. Just to make sure.

**A/N:** Tell me what you think about this? Did you expect the ending? Should I have left it at the dream-sequence?


	28. A Thing For

**A/N:**Sooo, did you know that Alex had a thing for... read to find out :P

**Disclaimer:**Plus ça change, plus c'est la même merde.

**Dedication:**For Tsuki (SamayouTamashi) who requested and inspired this. I hope this is to your taste ;) Bon appetit!

**A Thing For...**

Ben was sitting by the small kitchen table, partially hidden behind the newspaper he was studying. Hearing Alex enter – they had taken to avoiding accidentally sneaking up on each other due to their habitually light steps – he lowered the paper and looked up at his partner over the rim of stylish rectangular reading glasses. A smirk spread over his face when Alex's step faltered just the tiniest bit, and the younger man stared at him, carefully blank-faced.

"Hey there," Ben greeted him with perfect nonchalance, his dark eyes twinkling mischievously. "Like my new glasses?"

Alex swallowed, his Adam's apple bopping minutely up and down in his throat. He shrugged non-committally and turned towards the shelf over the counter, rummaging through the general chaos to find himself a coffee mug in an attempt to ignore the urge to openly gape at his partner. The newspaper rustled behind him as Ben folded it and laid it on the table.

"I thought you'd been to the bank, not the optician's," Alex remarked casually. He had finally found a cup and grabbed for the coffee-pot to pour himself a drink.

"Oh, I was," Ben had risen from his seat and moved to stand beside Alex, almost lounging with his hip against the counter. He adjusted the glasses in a very deliberate movement. They pronounced his high cheekbones, adding to his handsome features. "Got them from Smithers for my next assignment. Splinter-proof. Zero dioptres.* I'm supposed to get used to wearing them."

"Smithers?" The name piqued Alex's interest, and he latched onto the prompt, apparently ignoring Ben's advances after his little slip before. "So they're not just a disguise, right?"

"Integrated camera and mike, as well as an LED light – to _read_ in the dark," Ben offered easily, giving in to his partner's little stalling game.

"_Of__course_," Alex smiled crookedly, and leant a little closer to examine the glasses, trying to figure out which gadget was hidden where. Despite expecting it, his breath hitched briefly when Ben mirrored the move, meeting him halfway, stopping just before Alex went cross-eyed at the proximity. Their noses were only an inch from touching, and then Ben's lips were suddenly right next to his ear.

"I like the fourth function best, though," he whispered smoothly and licked the spot just under Alex's earlobe, making him shiver and push the porcelain cup in his hand away out of precaution.

"Do you, now?" Alex mumbled huskily, titling his head and offering more of his neck to Ben's caresses. "What _is_ the fourth function then?"

Alex groaned slightly in disappointment when Ben pulled away to look deeply into his eyes, an intense gaze framed by the elegant design of his newest accessory, and Alex felt himself being undressed mentally. Then Ben flashed him a dirty grin and took the glasses off in a slow, lavish motion, brushing one earpiece over his lower lip seductively. In spite of the exaggeration towards the end, the gesture made Alex's throat constrict.

"They make me _so_ irresistible," Ben murmured hoarsely, putting the glasses away and pulling Alex flush against him with his free hand, meeting his lips in a rough, hungry kiss. Feeling warm hands slide downwards from his waist Alex grinned against Ben's lips and let his own wander freely, touching and teasing and showing just how much he agreed with that statement.

In a high-security workshop in Liverpool Street, Derek Smithers chuckled merrily, looking at the monitor showing the input it received from the camera hidden in agent Daniels' new reading glasses: nothing but a tiled kitchen wall and an abandoned mug of cooling coffee, soon veiled by the dark red fabric of a t-shirt, accompanied by a shirt rustling. He bemusedly turned off the audio feed transmitting his two favourite agents' gasps and sighs and _other __noises __it __was __very __much __inappropriate __to __listen __in __on_. He hummed to himself as he deleted the records of the scene he had just witnessed. It seemed that Alex Rider had a little thing for men wearing glasses. He concluded that Ben Daniels would grow used to wearing his in no time.

**A/N:** ...maybe I should have put a 'fanservice' warning?

Thanks again for giving me that incredibly smexy mental picture of Ben with reading glasses, Tsuki! I hope I managed to appropriately share the hotness xD

*I'm afraid I have no idea if my dictionary messed this one up. Please do correct me if it did.


	29. Papaver Rhoeas

**A/N: **I am so, so sorry for taking forever to get something published. But at least it's still 2011!

This was originally planned for Nov 11th, but I think/hope it works as a New Year's Eve piece, too. Wishing you all a great start into 2012, and I hope you enjoy this!

Very special thanks go to littleshush, for helping me out with this one, and for being awesome in general! x

**Disclaimer: **Yeah, right, I wish.

**Papaver Rhoeas**

_Unser Bruder ist der scharlachende Mohn / Our brother is the scarlet laughing poppy_

_Der brennt in flackernden roten Schauern / That burns in flickering red bursts of flame_

_Im Ährenfeld und auf den heißen Mauern / In fields of wheat and on hot walls_

_Dann treibt seine Blätter der Wind davon / Then the wind carries away its petals_

Ben notices the poppy plant on the wayside on their traditional morning jog by pure chance, and suddenly remembers something that his mother used to do. On a whim, he stops and kneels down to pluck a single bud – two green and pubescent sepals joined firmly together to protect the fragile petals inside. Alex comes to a halt ten feet further along the road, and turns around with his head cocked to one side in a silent question that goes unanswered.

_Guess what colour it is right now, Ben. Do you think it is still green? Or white?_

Ben stands and lets a fingertip ghost over the seam with a smile, caressing it like the treasured memory of his mother and the days of his early childhood, when the colour of poppy petals was the biggest mystery to him. And when his mother always guessed right, that was no surprise, really, because she knew everything. Alex slowly and almost soundlessly walks over, still watching him intently, but not uttering a single word.

_Maybe it's pink?_

Ben probes the nub carefully, feeling it yield ever so slightly, suggesting that it is full of silk soft flower petals, wrinkled like old paper yet fresh as the new day. The early morning sun glistens on the fine translucent hairs. He glances up at Alex from the corner of his eye, not quite sure how to explain what he is doing if the other should ask. With the tiniest sigh he returns his gaze to his hands, finally deciding on a colour. There is no other option any more, after all. Alex shifts minutely.

_Or is it red?_

Ben gently pulls the two sepals away, and the crinkled petals push outwards like stretching after a too short night's rest curled up on a chair, unwilling to move to bed. Of course. Ben's smile does not turn triumphant as it would have all those years ago, because the magic of the revelation has long since left him. He makes to straighten out the petals, as if trying to show them how to become a real blossom. Then he touches the fragile tissue too hard, and red stains his fingertips.

**Klatschmohn**

Alex bends to lay the poppies they have brought in front of the tombstone, never saying a word. He has been silent ever since they passed the wrought-iron gate of the graveyard, like they left the realm of words when they entered. The London sky is overcast but bright from the sun hidden behind the clouds. It is a quiet day. Unobtrusive. In fact it is so ordinary and simple that the flecks of red that dot the graves look completely out of place.

Alex sighs, pulling Ben's gaze towards him from wandering among vague outlines of remembered lives, names and dates carved in stone. The younger man's eyes are fixed on the letters _Ian Rider _and his hands were loosely folded, as though in prayer, even though Ben is sure his thoughts are not dwelling on some divine idea, but rather on a man he had believed to have known. There is no regret in his eyes, no mourning, no longing, no desperate anger. Just a silent, peaceful remembrance.

The figures that denote Ian Rider's life and death stare up at Ben relentlessly. Then they shift, turning into his grandfather's. In a flash they become his father's. Blur soundlessly into Neil's, mockingly into Quinn's, stubbornly into Luke's, resignedly into Alex's, finally into his own. They are moribund, all of them. It is not a particularly foreign notion for him, but it makes him shiver nonetheless, warmth escaping his grip like a crystallised breath. The vibrant red of the poppies burns into his eyes, like fire behind glass.

Taking a deep breath that flickers coldly in his lungs, he stepps closer to Alex. Just an inch. Just enough to feel a hint of body heat. Just enough to remind himself that Alex is really still there and not yet a fading memory. The other returns the gesture, leaning a little closer, bringing Ben into his peripheral vision even when his gaze never leaves his uncle's grave. A sudden gust of wind seems to lure them into each other, accompanying their small movement with a rustle of autumn leaves.

Ben fights a gasp at the unexpected sentiment that hits him. He feels incredibly alive, in a way that is horrifying and terrible – the cold, still tearing through his coat, his skin, his bones – the wind, sharp and insinuating, deeply disquieting – the gravestones, an absurdly intense grey, clear-cut and constant against the white sky – his heart, steadily beating, defiant, stubborn, proud. He feels alive for all the people who are not that day, and for all those who will not live to see next year's poppies.

He brushes a cool hand against Alex's in a whisper of a promise. _Let's never forget this, however scary it may be. We're alive. Here. Now._

**Coquelicot**

Consciousness comes slowly, a loud and bright cacophony creeping into the silky darkness of his oblivion. Even the almost perfect quiet of reality is deafening for a moment, and the subdued light of dusk hurts his eyes as he opens them. The vague shape to his right gradually grows sharper, more defined, more vivid. Ben is sitting cross-legged, his back perfectly straight, his breath calm as though in meditation.

The smell of smoke and fresh death lingers in the air, a blanket woven of nameless black-clad men and women weighing down on them, clawing at their lungs, constricting their throats. The blood on both their clothes and skin is red and brown and black in the rays of the setting sun. Ben turns towards Alex in a well-measured gesture, meeting his eyes and then slumping with a traitorous sigh of relief he had not seemed to be holding. His hands fall loosely in his lap, his left arm brushing Alex's hip just barely – a reluctant search, a timid confession.

Alex accepts both. They remain like that for a little longer, both still a bit shaken by the firmness of their grip and the steadiness of their trigger fingers just an hour ago. Deep breaths. Ben looks a little disbelieving, and he proves that a smirk can be relieved and bitter and frisky at the same time. Alex feels like they are dancing on graves, and in a way they are, and even though he knows it is immoral, there is the sudden urge to throw his head back and laugh out loud amidst the cooling corpses scattered around them. He is so incredibly glad to see Ben right now in this very moment, with that expression of stunned happiness on his face.

"_T'es vraiment invincible, n'est-ce pas, mon coquelicot?"_

With a faint but gentle smile, Alex nods and pushes himself onto his elbows, never shifting his gaze. He says those three overused words with his eyes only, and in a thousand different ways. As an off-hand remark and like an expletive and soaked in sarcasm and red-hot with anger and carelessly hazy with lust. He does not speak, and that makes the words more sincere than any inflection of the voice could have.

**Poppy**

Getting off the plane, Alex takes a deep breath of cold London air, interwoven with the smell of kerosene and fog. He has been gone for way too long this time, he thinks, in a slight jumble of Japanese and English, thanks to spending the last four months all over Honshū. He picks up his large suitcase at the baggage claim, hefting it off the belt.

It is as he makes his way out of Heathrow airport that Alex notices the man with the poppy in his buttonhole. He is dressed casually, jeans and a leather jacket, and his square features and high cheekbones are framed by dark hair. His deep brown eyes are staring at Alex, his entire attention fixed on him. Suddenly a crowd of people moves between them, making for the exit. When the floor clears again, Ben is gone.

An eye-blink later, Alex finds himself being embraced from behind, wincing minutely despite the moment's warning of a purposefully heavy step and the faint scent of leather. Relaxing quickly, he leans back into the warm body behind him.

"Okaeri, Alex," Ben says in a husky whisper, breath tickling Alex's ear and neck, "Welcome home."

"Tadaima, Ben," he sighs, and relishes in the feeling of having someone to return to.

**A/N:** "Klatschmohn", "coquelicot" and "papaver rhoeas" all mean "poppy", in German, French and Latin respectively, for those of you who didn't figure that one out. I hope the translation of the poem makes sense? I always find it kind of hard to translate things (especially poetic ones ) into a foreign language. And Ben asks "You're really invincible, aren't you, my poppy?" in French. (Does sound a bit strange in English, though...)

Thanks for reading & let me know what you think!


	30. Trois Pommes

**A/N: **This was originally supposed to be longer, but I somehow can't manage to expand on these drabbles – maybe one of you would like to?

I hope you're not disappointed with this meagre update, but I felt I had to publish _something_. It _is_ Single Awareness Day after all.

**Disclaimer: **Nope, still a poor student owning nothing.

**Trois Pommes (Three Apples)**

_Sin_

Alex is always looking for something. He always has been. He is not always sure what is is, and at times it seems to change with the way the light hits it, but his curiosity will not let him rest until he has found whatever it will turn out to be. It is also his curiosity that makes him show up at Ben's, completely soaked in London rain, and with ulterior motives. Ben gives in to the temptation easily enough, his own thirst for knowledge driving him on, far from quenched with a change into dry clothes. Or a kiss the flavour of hot chocolate.

What follows is their first sin, and now that they have had a taste of what they might be searching for, they will never be able to live without it again.

_Discord_

Both of them have made tough decisions in their lives, not always the best ones, but they have always followed things through to the end. Both of them will continue to do so until something or other stops them from ever making decisions again. They live thanks to and with and in spite of these decisions. If they did not, they could not live at all.

That does not mean they always accept each other's decisions, and when they don't, it ends in loud voices, and fists, and bite marks and, sometimes, but only in the worst cases, heart-clenching, blood-curling silence.

_Revelation_

They have been watching each other for a long, long time, observing, trying to comprehend the other's mind and soul. Like learning a dance with one's eyes closed, it has taken a lot of practice and patience, and stepping on each other's toes in the process. Their fists, their heads and their hearts have been suffering along the way, and it is the latter that their inquisition leads them back to.

The blindfolds come off and all the anger and frustration, the hatred and the lust, the laughter and the fights, they all finally boil down to one thing, one big revelation that makes their breath catch, their hands shake and their hearts race.

**A/N:** Cookies and apples to everyone who figures out the title and/or subtitles! xD


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